“At midnight from her lonely bed
She rose, and said, ‘I have had my will.’
The old ragged robe she donned, and fled
Back to the convent on the hill.”
She blessed, as she ran thither, the comfortable convent laws by which nuns who had sinned as she had done were buried alive. But I must copy the remaining stanzas, for no condensation can do justice to their tender, piteous, triumphant charm:—
“Like tired bells chiming in their sleep,
The wind faint peals of laughter bore;
She stopped her ears and climbed the steep,
And thundered at the convent door.
“It opened straight: she entered in,