But in a wilderness
Alone may such life be?
Why of all things framed,
In my human form confessed
Should I be ashamed,
And blush for honesty?

Rounded, strengthy limbs
That knit me to my kind--
Your glory turns to grief!
Shall I for my soul sing hymns,
Yet for my body find
No clear, divine belief?

Let me rather die,
Than by faith uphold
Dogmas weak that dare
The form that once Christ wore deny
Afraid with him to share
A purity twofold;

Yet, while sin remains
On this saddened earth,
Humbly walk my ways!
For my garments are as chains;
And I fear to praise
My frame with careless mirth.

Joy and penance go