The three visions, the Mother Superior bore
A bitter forewarning of what was in store
This infant so frail must not grow to be strong
The world was at risk if she waited too long
So veiled by the blackness of night she did creep
And onwards she moved to where the crib lay
She leant over the baby and started to pray
She prayed for forgiveness for what she would do
She prayed that the knife in her hand would aim true
But all of a sudden she was now paralyzed
The baby daughter had opened her eyes