To trust me, though I’m but a nun.
You’ve heard a portion of my tale
Before? From whom? Oh, tell[23] me quick!
From my lost love? You both set sail
In the same ship? My heart[24] grows sick—
What? Still alive?[25] Oh, God be praised!
Oh, joy![26] Oh, joy! And I will write?
Now that my dead to life is raised—
Will I? Yes, now—this very night.
—Geo. M. Vickers.