Gods, Saints & Men By Eugene Lee-Hamilton ... With Ten Full-Page Illustartions Designed by Enrico Mazzanti |
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THE KEYS OF THE CONVENT. |
 | Gods, Saints & Men |  |
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THE KEYS OF THE CONVENT.
PART I.
The night had closed, and all reposed
Within the Convent's walls,
The cloisters fair now empty were,
And silent were the halls.
Within the Convent's walls,
The cloisters fair now empty were,
And silent were the halls.
And undisturbed, with passions curbed
The Nuns to rest had gone;
The moonbeams peeping could see them sleeping,
Each in her cell of stone.
The Nuns to rest had gone;
The moonbeams peeping could see them sleeping,
Each in her cell of stone.
But there was one, the portress nun,
Whom mighty struggles tried;
With breathing bated, awake she waited
A well-known step outside.
Whom mighty struggles tried;
With breathing bated, awake she waited
A well-known step outside.
She crouched with shame, where burnt the flame
Before the Virgin's figure;
And, as she knelt, each moment felt
Her bursting heart grow bigger.
Before the Virgin's figure;
And, as she knelt, each moment felt
Her bursting heart grow bigger.
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“O Mary mild, and Holy Child,”
She cried with burning brow,
“Oh give me power, this bitter hour,
To keep my convent vow;
She cried with burning brow,
“Oh give me power, this bitter hour,
To keep my convent vow;
“See how I fight, this live-long night
With fierce temptation near;
When Love shall call, prevent my fall,
Vouchsafe my prayer to hear.”
With fierce temptation near;
When Love shall call, prevent my fall,
Vouchsafe my prayer to hear.”
And at the feet of Mary sweet
The sister portress lay
Convulsed and pale, with groan and wail,
Nor ceased for help to pray.
The sister portress lay
Convulsed and pale, with groan and wail,
Nor ceased for help to pray.
But soon outside was heard a stride
Distinctly more and more,
And there was heard a whispered word,
Athrough the grated door:
Distinctly more and more,
And there was heard a whispered word,
Athrough the grated door:
“Away, away, 'tis almost day,
My steed hard by is waiting;
I cannot wait; 'tis late, 'tis late,
Unfasten quick the grating.”
My steed hard by is waiting;
I cannot wait; 'tis late, 'tis late,
Unfasten quick the grating.”
She gave a start, loud thumped her heart
And to her feet she leapt;
By passion urged, by conscience scourged,
Half to the door she stept.
And to her feet she leapt;
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Half to the door she stept.
There, all unnerved, she now observed
The door, and now the shrine,
Where fair and mild, the Virgin smiled
Her smile of love Divine.
The door, and now the shrine,
Where fair and mild, the Virgin smiled
Her smile of love Divine.
“Once gone with him, oh who will trim
Thy lamp that's ever burning,
Or wreathe thy flowers in noon-tide hours,
When once there's no returning?”
Thy lamp that's ever burning,
Or wreathe thy flowers in noon-tide hours,
When once there's no returning?”
“I've not the strength,” she gasped at length,
“I've not the strength to stay;”
As more and more outside the door,
Was heard the call “Away!”
“I've not the strength to stay;”
As more and more outside the door,
Was heard the call “Away!”
But ere she fled, with muffled head,
She kissed the Virgin's knees,
And in her charge, she left the large
And heavy Convent keys.
She kissed the Virgin's knees,
And in her charge, she left the large
And heavy Convent keys.
[PART] II.
She drank her measure of sinful pleasure;
At last the dregs were met,
The more they thickened the more she sickened,
But thicker grew they yet.
At last the dregs were met,
The more they thickened the more she sickened,
But thicker grew they yet.
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She looked around; no help she found,
She dared not look above;
She could no more to Heaven soar
Than a bespattered dove.
She dared not look above;
She could no more to Heaven soar
Than a bespattered dove.
But from her life with scandal rife,
She now with loathing turned,
And for the end, which God should send,
From dawn to eve she yearned.
She now with loathing turned,
And for the end, which God should send,
From dawn to eve she yearned.
At last one day she tore away
The jewelled chain she wore;
The silken dress which did oppress,
From off her limbs she tore;
The jewelled chain she wore;
The silken dress which did oppress,
From off her limbs she tore;
And donned again her old and plain
And cherished Nun's attire
Hid in her trunk, and which she'd shrunk
From giving to the fire.
And cherished Nun's attire
Hid in her trunk, and which she'd shrunk
From giving to the fire.
And courage rallied and firmly sallied
When Day was nearly spent;
On, on, she flew, though well she knew
What was the punishment.
When Day was nearly spent;
On, on, she flew, though well she knew
What was the punishment.
She sighted late the Convent gate,
Sound slept the pious flock;
And lo, the door revolved before
Her hand had time to knock.
Sound slept the pious flock;
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Her hand had time to knock.
What could it mean? Had she been seen?
She shyly stepped within,
No soul was there? The Portress where?
And who had let her in?
She shyly stepped within,
No soul was there? The Portress where?
And who had let her in?
But in the shrine, the lamp did shine
Before the Virgin's figure,
In whose white hand the keys did stand.
Her awe grew ever bigger.
Before the Virgin's figure,
In whose white hand the keys did stand.
Her awe grew ever bigger.
She knelt again in fear and pain,
As on that fatal night,
And the Mother of God appeared to nod
By the uncertain light.
As on that fatal night,
And the Mother of God appeared to nod
By the uncertain light.
And there she stay'd, and humbly prayed
Until the matins rang,
Then, pale of face, she took her place
Among the nuns who sang.
Until the matins rang,
Then, pale of face, she took her place
Among the nuns who sang.
But in their eyes was no surprise,
As if they'd never missed her;
None seemed amazed; no cry was raised,
That 'twas their erring sister.
As if they'd never missed her;
None seemed amazed; no cry was raised,
That 'twas their erring sister.
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She asked of one: Which was the nun
Who now was Portress there?
But, stranger yet, her words were met
By Wonder's gaping stare.
Who now was Portress there?
But, stranger yet, her words were met
By Wonder's gaping stare.
Ye Saints above! Her sinful love,
Had it been nought but dreaming?
And was her flight that fatal night,
And her return, mere seeming?
Had it been nought but dreaming?
And was her flight that fatal night,
And her return, mere seeming?
“But no, but no,” she murmured low,
“Her sin was but too real,”
When a sudden thought at which she caught,
Brought light in her ordeal.
“Her sin was but too real,”
When a sudden thought at which she caught,
Brought light in her ordeal.
When she had fled with muffled head,
While all in peace did sleep,
Had she not given the Queen of Heaven
The Convent keys to keep?
While all in peace did sleep,
Had she not given the Queen of Heaven
The Convent keys to keep?
And could it be, that even she
Had done the sinner's duty,
And service done to save the nun
Betrayed by Youth and Beauty.
Had done the sinner's duty,
And service done to save the nun
Betrayed by Youth and Beauty.
She knelt again, but not in pain;
Oh, had she guessed aright?
And the mother of God, appeared to nod
In the uncertain light.
Oh, had she guessed aright?
And the mother of God, appeared to nod
In the uncertain light.
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