Or else their lives he swore he would not spare.

But never, though the torturers them sought
To move by pains, their God would they deny,
But kneeled them down beneath the axe's stroke,
Glad for the Lord and for His truth to die.
Their death, to Life, one of their jailers won,
And he in turn received the martyr's crown.

Cecilia buried them with tranquil joy
That they so fair an end of life had won,
And she herself in virtuous employ,
In trust of God and of His risen Son,
Worked ever, till the tyrant her also
Had seizéd for to deal her pain and woe.

Boldly she stood before the judgment seat,
And boldly answered for her faith full free;
With nought of mercy hoped she then to meet,
Never to idols would she bow the knee.
Her at the last Almachius doomed to die
By torture, for she dared his power defy.

They placed her in a bath of boiling heat,
But cold and calm she sat amid the flame,
And never let she fall a drop of sweat,
But preached for ever Christé's holy name,
Until the tyrant foul that wished her dead,
Commanded them straightway smite off her head.