And Silence thro’ the Convent reigns confest,
Save where some pale-ey’d Novice (wrap’d in Pray’r)
Heaves a deep groan, and smites her guiltless breast.
Save where in artless melancholy Strains
Some Eloisa whom soft Passion moves,
Absorpt in Sorrow to the night complains;
For ever bar’d the Abelard she loves.
Within those ancient walls by moss o’erspread,
Where the relenting sinner learns to weep;
Each in her narrow Bed till Mid-night laid,