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,
  ‘Knowest 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,’ sang the blackbird,
  ‘Let her in! Let her in!’

‘Thou bring'st 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.