With tears, like a true penitent,
“If haply so my day of grace
Be not yet past; and this lone place,
O’ershadowy, dark, excludeth hence
All thoughts but grief and penitence.”
“Why dost thou weep, thou gentle maid!
And wherefore in this barren shade
Thy hidden thoughts with sorrow feed?
Can thing so fair repentance need?”
“Oh! I have done a deed of shame,