She had lived almost sorrowless her days;
But he felt no affection for the gaze
Of his fair girl; and when she fondly smiled,
He bade no father’s welcome to the child,
But even told his wish, and will’d it done,
For her to be sad-hearted—and a nun!
And so it was. She took the dreary veil,
A hopeless girl! and the bright flush grew pale
Upon her cheek; she felt, as summer feels
The winds of autumn, and the winter chills