We wanted Orpheus, and we did not get him,
to sing even headless, for love of song.
Do we weep for Rollo, dead so long?
Do we weep for us, not from him?
Weep not for Rollo; he lived his prime,
and Odo made him the lofty rhyme.
Must we be headless, like the hermit
to sing our pirate proper praises?
Maybe all our songs in chorus
match the healing singer's chords;
Our words together form preamble:
Saint Clair, Saint Clair, martyr admirable....
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