Better it would be for me And better it would have been Had I not been born, not grown Not been brought into the world Not had to come to this earth Not been suckled for the world
If I’d died a three-night--old Been lost in my swaddling band I’d have needed but a span of cloth A span more of wood, But a cubit of good earth Two words from the priest Three verses from the cantor One clang from the bell