You had dynastic reasons to convert,
They tell us. You were cold and calculating,
They tell us. Gutlessly pontificating,
They tell us to be endlessly alert
To these your faults. I trust you are not hurt—
You who look down on those still vaguely waiting
For elevation when the elevating
Comes easily, whose hearts are near inert.
You chose your zeal – but then you burned with zeal.
Christ rose indeed – and proved victorious
In you and in your heirs. The bloodless deal
We make with sin in you was ended thus.
You were, though nowadays the pigs still squeal,
Quite as sincere as any one of us.
(St. Olga, Equal to the Apostles, pray for us, that the Lord may grant us strength!)