Page:The Vow of the Peacock.pdf/33

24

And mingled with the rain, which kept Perpetual moan, as if it wept. While winds, amid the hollow caves, Told the sad secrets of the waves. It was a gloomy night—and, pale, That young queen drew her mourning veil, Which ill could screen that slender form From the rude beating of the storm. A convent reared upon the height, Gave shelter from the closing night. Thankful was that bright head to rest, For charity's sweet sake, their guest.

It was a mournful sight to see That youthful brow lie down Without its purple canopy, Without its royal crown;