No more in the ball-room that figure we meet,
But gliding at dusk to the wretch’s retreat,
Forgot in the halls is that high-sounding name,
For the Sister of Charity blushes at fame;
Forgot are the claims of her riches and birth,
For she barters for heaven the glory of earth.
4. Those feet, that to music could gracefully move,
Now bear her alone on the mission of love;
Those hands that once dangled the perfume and gem,
Are tending[257] the helpless, or lifted for them;