“I must pray for your Soul; the Monk replied,
“But will see you to-morrow, ere noon:
Then the Monk flew straight
To Old Barnard’s gate,
And he bade him haste
O’er the dewy waste,
By the light of the waning Moon.
In the Monkish cell did old Barnard wait,
And his Grandson went thither soon;
In a habit of grey