ON A NUN.

Sonnet composed in the name of a father, whose daughter had recently died shortly after her marriage; and addressed to the father of her who had lately taken the veil.

Of two fair virgins, modest, though admired,

Heaven made us happy; and now, wretched sires,

Heaven for a nobler doom their worth desires,

And gazing upon either, both required.

Mine, while the torch of Hymen newly fired

Becomes extinguished,—soon—too soon expires;

But thine, within the closing grate retired,

Eternal captive, to her God aspires.

But thou at least from out the jealous door,

Which shuts between your never-meeting eyes,

May'st hear her sweet and pious voice once more:

I to the marble, where my daughter lies,

Rush,—the swoln flood of bitterness I pour,

And knock, and knock, and knock—but none replies.

[First published, Childe Harold, Canto IV., 1818.]