Magdalen at Michael’s gate
  Tirlèd at the pin;
On Joseph’s thorn sang the blackbird,
  ‘Let her in! Let her in!’

‘Hast thou seen the wounds?’ said Michael,
  ‘Know’st thou thy sin?’
‘It is evening, evening,’ sang the blackbird,
  ‘Let her in! Let her in!’

‘Yes, I have seen the wounds,
  And I know my sin.’
‘She knows it well, well, well,’ sung the blackbird,
  ‘Let her in! Let her in!’

‘Thou bringest no offerings,’ said Michael.
  ‘Nought save sin.’
And the blackbird sang, ‘She is sorry, sorry, sorry,
  ‘Let her in! Let her in!’

When he had sung himself to sleep,
  And night did begin,
One came and open’d Michael’s gate,
  And Magdalen went in.