“Some say she is marked with a scarlet letter. Some call her the Samaritan woman. Others say her wake is a trail of tears. Some call her a harlot. Some say she has lost her way. Others call her impure.
But for her I laid down my life, for her I took her filth upon myself.
She is clothed in white and pure as snow. She has been made new.
I call her beloved. I call her my bride. I call her my own.”