natural ties are broken and whose early friends are gone, I am willing to admit; but it is not in the flower of youth, that the warm heart should be consigned to the cold cloister. Let the young take their chance of sunshine or of storm. The calm and shady retreat is for helpless and unprotected old age.
, to whom I described one of these ceremonies, wrote some verses, suggested by my account of them, which I send you.
In Tropic gorgeousness, the Lord of Day
To the bright chambers of the west retired,
And with the glory of his parting ray,
The hundred domes of Mexico he fired,
When I, with vague and solemn awe inspired,
Entered the Incarnation's sacred fane.
The vaulted roof, the dim aisle far retired.
Echoed the deep-toned organ's holy strain
Which through the incensed air did mournfully complain.
The veiling curtain suddenly withdrew,
Op'ning a glorious altar to the sight,
Where crimson intermixed its regal hue
With gold and jewels that outblazed the light
Of the huge tapers near them flaming bright
From golden stands;—the Bishop, mitre-crowned
Stood stately near;—in order due around
The Sisterhood knelt down, their brows upon the ground.
The Novice entered: To her doom she went
Gems on her robes, and flowers upon her brow.
Virgin of tender years, poor innocent;
Pause—ere thou speak th' irrevocable vow.
What if thy heart should change, thy spirit fail?
She kneels. The black-robed sisters cease to bow.
They raise a hymn which seems a funeral wail,
While o'er the pageant falls the dark, lugubrious veil.
