The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Croly In Two Volumes |
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 | II. |
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| II. | II. |
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| VII. |
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| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
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| XX. |
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| XXVII. |
| XXVIII. |
| XXIX. |
| XXX. |
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| XXXII. |
| XXXIII. |
| XXXIV. |
| XXXV. |
| XXXVI. |
| XXXVII. |
| XXXVIII. |
| XXXIX. |
| XL. |
| XLI. |
| XLII. |
| XLIII. |
| XLIV. |
| XLV. |
| XLVI. |
| XLVII. |
| XLVIII. |
| XLIX. |
| L. |
| LI. |
| LII. |
| LIII. |
| LIV. |
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 | The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Croly |  |
II.
'Twas night; but now on Turia's glassy waveThe eastern stars a fainter lustre gave,
A chaunt arose, 'twas from the convent-hill,
It linger'd, lapsed, and all again was still;
But, as the matins pass'd, the eastern gray
Wore vermeil tinges—'twas the dawning day.
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And soon were busy hands in every bower,
Culling the lily and the eglantine,
In their first dews, to wreathe round stall and shrine;
And soon peal'd out, in rich and distant thunder,
The tolling of the convent's far famed bell,
Filling the air above, around, and under,
With the deep music of its mighty swell;
For on this high and holy day, at noon,
Princely Sidonia's daughter was to wear
The robe, that, like the shroud, when once put on,
Leaves the wild heart no more to hope or fear.
| The Poetical Works of the Rev. George Croly | |