A Ballad of a Nun
By John Davidson
From Eastertide to Eastertide
For ten long years her patient knees
Engraved the stones—the fittest bride
Of Christ in all the diocese.
For ten long years her patient knees
Engraved the stones—the fittest bride
Of Christ in all the diocese.
She conquered every earthly lust;
The abbess loved her more and more;
And, as a mark of perfect trust,
Made her the keeper of the door.
The abbess loved her more and more;
And, as a mark of perfect trust,
Made her the keeper of the door.
High on a hill the convent hung
Across a duchy looking down,
Where everlasting mountains flung
Their shadows over tower and town.
Across a duchy looking down,
Where everlasting mountains flung
Their shadows over tower and town.
The jewels of their lofty snows
In constellations flashed at night;
Above their crests the moon arose;
The deep earth shuddered with delight.
In constellations flashed at night;
Above their crests the moon arose;
The deep earth shuddered with delight.
Long
