Ever since, a little maid,
Sudden awe would catch her breath,
She was always half-afraid—
Fearing life and fearing death.

Though, for those she loved, she bore
Steadfastly the brunt of life,
And faced death for them, fear wore
Heart and soul out in the strife.

Now the troubled brow is clear;
Stilled at last, the troubled breath;
And there's nothing left to fear,
Since she's done with life and death.