But in the morning’s dawn and evening’s gloom
She could not lock the damsel in her room;
And Fanny thought, “I will ascend these stairs
To see the chapel—there are none at prayers”;
None, she believed, had yet to dress return’d,
By whom a timid girl might be discern’d,
In her slow motion, looking, as she glides,
On pictures, busts, and what she met besides, 240
And speaking softly to herself alone,
Or singing low in melancholy tone;