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Title: The Convent
Author: William Lisle Bowles [ More Titles by Bowles]
If chance some pensive stranger, hither led, His bosom glowing from majestic views, Temple and tower 'mid the bright landscape's hues, Should ask who sleeps beneath this lowly bed? A maid of sorrow. To the cloistered scene, Unknown and beautiful a mourner came, Seeking with unseen tears to quench the flame Of hapless love: yet was her look serene As the pale moonlight in the midnight aisle;-- Her voice was gentle and a charm could lend, Like that which spoke of a departed friend; And a meek sadness sat upon her smile!-- Now, far removed from every earthly ill, Her woes are buried, and her heart is still.
[The end] William Lisle Bowles's poem: Convent ________________________________________________
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