I was a comely damsel Made of fragile fair clay, Pregnant with unhatched rebellion, Beclouded with the mist of youthhood, And on the broad path Dreaming of butterflies. I heard a still voice calling; It was the Prince of Peace, Oh, how sweet the sound! So I followed closely. But the sword in his mouth Pierced my flesh and bones, Caused my timely abortion, And shaped me into fit - A precious pearl for him. What else can I say? O Man of Calvary! Your love has captured me. You are my king forever! (Read 1Timothy 1:12-15)