You steadfastly served the Lord,
And were famous for physical healing,
You happily sought out holiness,
And spent much time prayerfully kneeling;
In a foreign land you were beaten to a pulp,
Until you were door-nail dead,
But it wasn’t satisfying enough,
So your murderers lopped off your head;
Now you wear a martyr’s golden crown,
And live in Heaven’s perennial jubilation,
Interceding for the Church Militant,
You help it become a new creation.