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