Chapter 42 No.42

Suppose we now the welcome said,

Suppose the convent banquet made:

All through the holy dome,

Through cloister, aisle, and gallery,

Wherever vestal maid might pry,

Nor risk to meet unhallowed eye,

The stranger sisters roam;

Till fell the evening damp with dew,

And the sharp sea-breeze coldly blew,

For there e'en summer ni