Look at me not, O deceitful temptation

Fix thine sights upon some other poor person

And let not thy unwholesome gaze worsen

My thoughts for I shall not respond to thy flirtation

I am protected from thy sickly molestation

Those you touch drown in their own cloying sin,

Lost in a decrepit web of death, wherein

They wallow in their corroding aberration

Without a Light to guide their way unlike I,

Who follows footsteps across water,

With sweet hope and pure chastity as God’s daughter;

And thou, O temptation, wilt die;

For even thou canst not resist thine own treacherous call,

And into a deathbed of thine own making thou too will fall.