He sees but the inward beauty
And the spirit's loveliness.

Cloister honors long have fallen
Ceaseless, constant, to her lot,
But, like cloister honors falling,
Unto one who sought them not;
Daughter meek of the great Foundress
Of thy honored house and name,
Worthy art thou to be Abbess
Of the nuns of Notre Dame!




ON THE DEATH OF THE SAME REVEREND NUN,
THE VENERABLE MOTHER ST. MADELEINE,
TEN YEARS LATER.

In Memoriam.


Grief reigns now within the convent walls,
And sadly float through its silent halls
The notes of a requiem--solemn, clear,
Falling like wail on each listening ear,
And with tearful eyes and features pale,
With low bowed head and close drawn veil,
To the convent church, round a bier to kneel,
The daughters of Marguerite Bourgeoys steal.