Prostrate the Chapel aisles between—
When holy mass was sung.
And there, three lamps now dimly burn,—
Twelve Monks their masses saying;
And there, the midnight bell doth toll
For quiet to the murd’rer’s soul—
While all around are praying.
For Charity and Pity kind,
To gentle souls are given;
And Mercy is the sainted pow’r,