THE
NUN
.
AN
ELEGY
.
WITH
each
perfection
dawning
on
her
mind
,
All
beauty's
treasure
opening
on
her
cheek
,
Each
flatt'ring
hope
subdu'd
,
each
wish
resign'd
,
Does
gay
Ophelia
this
lone
mansion
seek
.
Say
,
gentle
maid
,
what
prompts
thee
to
forsake
The
paths
,
thy
birth
and
fortune
strew
with
flow'rs
?
Through
nature's
kind
endearing
ties
to
break
,
And
waste
in
cloyster'd
walls
thy
pensive
hours
?
Let
sober
thought
restrain
thine
erring
zeal
,
That
guides
thy
footsteps
to
the
vestal
gate
,
Lest
thy
soft
heart
(
this
friendship
bids
reveal
)
Like
mine
unblest
shou'd
mourn
like
mine
too
late
.
Does
some
angelic
lonely-whisp'ring
voice
,
Some
sacred
impulse
,
or
some
dream
divine
,
Approve
the
dictates
of
thy
early
choice
?
—
Approach
with
confidence
the
awful
shrine
.
There
kneeling
at
yon
altar's
marble
base
(
While
streams
of
rapture
from
thine
eye-lid
steal
,
And
smiling
heav'n
illumes
thy
soul
with
grace
)
Pronounce
the
vow
,
thou
never
can'st
repeal
.
Yet
if
misled
by
false-entitled
friends
,
Who
say
—
"
That
peace
with
all
her
comely
train
,
"
From
starry
regions
to
this
clime
descends
,
"
Smooths
ev'ry
frown
,
and
softens
ev'ry
pain
:
"
That
vestals
tread
contentment's
flow'ry
lawn
,
"
Approv'd
of
innocence
,
by
health
carest
:
"
That
rob'd
in
colours
bright
,
by
fancy
drawn
,
"
Celestial
hope
sits
smiling
at
their
breast
;
"
Suspect
their
syren
song
and
artful
style
,
Their
pleasing
sounds
some
treach'rous
thought
conceal
!
Full
oft
does
pride
with
sainted
voice
beguile
,
And
sordid
int'rest
wear
the
mask
of
zeal
.
A
tyrant
abbess
here
perchance
may
reign
,
Who
,
fond
of
pow'r
,
affects
the
imperial
nod
,
Looks
down
disdainful
on
her
female
train
,
And
rules
the
cloyster
with
an
iron
rod
.
Reflection
sickens
at
the
life-long
tie
,
Back-glancing
mem'ry
acts
her
busy
part
,
Its
charms
the
world
unfolds
to
fancy's
eye
,
And
sheds
allurement
on
the
wishful
heart
.
Lo
!
Discord
enters
at
the
sacred
porch
,
Rage
in
her
frown
,
and
terror
on
her
crest
:
Ev'n
at
the
hallow'd
lamps
she
lights
her
torch
,
And
holds
it
flaming
to
each
virgin
breast
.
But
since
the
legends
of
monastic
bliss
By
fraud
are
fabled
,
and
by
youth
believ'd
,
Unbought
experience
learn
from
my
distress
,
Oh
!
mark
my
lot
,
and
be
no
more
deceiv'd
.
Three
lustres
scarce
with
hasty
wing
were
fled
,
When
I
was
torn
from
ev'ry
weeping
friend
,
A
thoughtless
victim
to
the
temple
led
,
And
(
blush
ye
parents
)
by
a
father's
hand
.
Yet
then
what
solemn
scenes
deceiv'd
my
choice
!
The
pealing
organ's
animating
sound
,
The
choral
virgins'
captivating
voice
,
The
blazing
altar
,
and
the
priests
around
:
The
train
of
youths
array'd
in
purest
white
,
Who
scatter'd
myrtles
as
I
pass'd
along
;
The
thousand
lamps
that
pour'd
a
flood
of
light
,
The
kiss
of
peace
from
all
the
vestal
throng
:
The
golden
censers
toss'd
with
graceful
hand
,
Whose
fragrant
breath
Arabian
odor
shed
:
Of
meek-ey'd
novices
the
circling
band
,
With
blooming
chaplets
wove
around
their
head
.
—
My
willing
soul
was
caught
in
rapture's
flame
,
While
sacred
ardor
glow'd
in
ev'ry
vein
:
Methought
applauding
angels
sung
my
name
,
And
heaven's
unsullied
glories
gilt
the
fane
.
This
temporary
transport
soon
expir'd
,
My
drooping
heart
confess'd
a
dreadful
void
:
E'er
since
,
alas
!
abandon'd
,
uninspir'd
,
I
tread
this
dome
to
misery
allied
.
No
wakening
joy
informs
my
sullen
breast
,
Thro'
opening
skies
no
radiant
seraph
smiles
,
No
saint
descends
to
sooth
my
soul
to
rest
,
No
dream
of
bliss
the
dreary
night
beguiles
.
Here
haggard
discontent
still
haunts
my
view
;
The
sombre
genius
reigns
in
ev'ry
place
,
Arrays
each
virtue
in
the
darkest
hue
,
Chills
ev'ry
prayer
,
and
cancels
ev'ry
grace
.
I
meet
her
ever
in
the
chearless
cell
,
The
gloomy
grotto
and
unsocial
wood
;
I
hear
her
ever
in
the
midnight
bell
,
The
hollow
gale
,
and
hoarse
resounding
flood
.
This
caus'd
a
mother's
tender
tears
to
flow
,
(
The
sad
remembrance
time
shall
ne'er
erase
)
When
having
seal'd
th'
irrevocable
vow
,
I
hasten'd
to
receive
her
last
embrace
.
Full-well
she
then
presag'd
my
wretched
fate
,
Th'
unhappy
moments
of
each
future
day
:
When
lock'd
within
this
terror-shedding
grate
,
My
joy-deserted
soul
would
pine
away
.
Yet
ne'er
did
her
maternal
voice
unfold
This
cloyster'd
scene
in
all
its
horror
drest
;
Nor
did
she
then
my
trembling
steps
withold
When
here
I
enter'd
a
reluctant
guest
.
Ah
!
could
she
view
her
only
child
betray'd
,
And
let
submission
o'er
her
love
prevail
?
Th'
unfeeling
priest
why
did
she
not
upbraid
?
Forbid
the
vow
,
and
rend
the
hov'ring
veil
?
Alas
!
she
might
not
—
her
relentless
lord
Had
seal'd
her
lips
,
and
chid
her
streaming
tear
,
So
anguish
in
her
breast
conceal'd
its
hoard
,
And
all
the
mother
sunk
in
dumb
despair
.
But
thou
who
own'st
a
father's
sacred
name
,
What
act
impell'd
thee
to
this
ruthless
deed
?
What
crime
had
forfeited
my
filial
claim
?
And
giv'n
(
oh
blasting
thought
)
thy
heart
to
bleed
?
If
then
thine
injur'd
child
deserve
thy
care
,
Oh
haste
and
bear
her
from
this
lonesome
gloom
!
In
vain
—
no
words
can
sooth
his
rigid
ear
;
And
Gallia's
laws
have
riveted
my
doom
.
Ye
cloister'd
fair
—
ye
censure-breathing
saints
,
Suppress
your
taunts
,
and
learn
at
length
to
spare
,
Tho'
mid
these
holy
walls
I
vent
my
plaints
,
And
give
to
sorrow
what
is
due
to
pray'r
.
I
fled
not
to
this
mansion's
deep
recess
,
To
veil
the
blushes
of
a
guilty
shame
,
The
tenor
of
an
ill-spent
life
redress
,
And
snatch
from
infamy
a
sinking
name
.
Yet
let
me
to
my
fate
submissive
bow
;
From
fatal
symptoms
if
I
right
conceive
,
This
stream
Ophelia
has
not
long
to
flow
,
This
voice
to
murmur
,
and
this
breast
to
heave
.
Ah
!
when
extended
on
th'
untimely
bier
To
yonder
vault
this
form
shall
be
convey'd
,
Thou'lt
not
refuse
to
shed
one
grateful
tear
,
And
breathe
the
requiem
to
my
fleeting
shade
.
With
pious
footstep
join
the
sable
train
,
As
thro'
the
lengthening
ile
they
take
their
way
;
A
glimmering
taper
let
thy
hand
sustain
,
Thy
soothing
voice
attune
the
funeral
lay
:
Behold
the
minister
who
lately
gave
The
sacred
veil
,
in
garb
of
mournful
hue
,
(
More
friendly
office
)
bending
o'er
my
grave
,
And
sprinkling
my
remains
with
hallow'd
dew
:
As
o'er
the
corse
he
strews
the
rattling
dust
,
The
sternest
heart
will
raise
compassion's
sigh
:
Ev'n
then
no
longer
to
his
child
unjust
,
The
tears
may
trickle
from
a
father's
eye
.