Classic Poem

In the low echoes of the anthem's close
The murmurs of a distant chorus rose.
A portal open'd, in its shadow stood
A sable pomp, the hallow'd sisterhood,
They led a white-robed form, young, delicate,
Where life's delicious spring was opening yet:
Yet was she stately, and, as up the aisle
She moved, her proud, pale lip half wore a smile:
Her eye was firm, yet those who saw it near,
Saw on its lash the glistening of a tear.
All to Sidonia's sainted daughter bow'd,
And she returned it calmly, like one vow'd
To loftier things. But, once she paused; and press'd
With quick, strange force her slight hand to her breast,
And her wan cheek was redden'd with a glow
That spread its crimson to her forehead's snow;
As if the vestal felt the throes that wreak
Their stings upon young hearts about to break.
She struggled, sigh'd; her look of agony
Was soothed, and she was at Sidonia's knee.
Her father's tears of anguish on her fell;
His gentle heart abhorr'd the convent cell;
Even now he bade her pause. She look'd to heaven,
One long, wild pressure to his cheek was given,
Her pale lip quiver'd, could not say " farewell. " —
The bell gave one deep toll, it seem'd her knell;
She started, strove his strong embrace to sever,
Then rush'd within the gate — — that shuts for ever.