Denzil place a story in verse. By Violet Fane [i.e. M. M. Lamb] |
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 | Denzil place |  |
Within the cloisters of the nunnery
Which stood still further hidden in the hills,
There may, perchance, have throbb'd some heavy hearts
Stricken by arrows with a sharper point,
Inflicting pangs far more incurable
Than those of hunger, thirst, or rheumatism,
But yet the placid features of the nuns
Seem'd to belie this pitying surmise,
As Constance heard them, in their modest tones,
Give her a smiling blessing as they pass'd.
Of one of these, the sympathetic voice,
And dreamy eyes, made Constance feel for her
As for a friend. This sister show'd her o'er
The convent garden, gave her flow'rs and fruit,
And praised the while the peaceful pray'rful life
Led by herself and all the sisterhood.
Which stood still further hidden in the hills,
There may, perchance, have throbb'd some heavy hearts
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Inflicting pangs far more incurable
Than those of hunger, thirst, or rheumatism,
But yet the placid features of the nuns
Seem'd to belie this pitying surmise,
As Constance heard them, in their modest tones,
Give her a smiling blessing as they pass'd.
Of one of these, the sympathetic voice,
And dreamy eyes, made Constance feel for her
As for a friend. This sister show'd her o'er
The convent garden, gave her flow'rs and fruit,
And praised the while the peaceful pray'rful life
Led by herself and all the sisterhood.
| Denzil place | |