Rowena's Lament. 

 O mother, mine, no longer minel My life for thine, yea twice for thine! O take it Death! Why not, O Death? Why is our breath, life's fleeting breath, Not ours to take, to give or take? Life's cord will break, life's cord must break. Why may we not, why dare we not, Clean cut its knot, its painful knot? 

O mother, mine, no longer minel

O take it Death! Why not, O Death?

Why is our breath, life's fleeting breath,

Life's cord will break, life's cord must break.

Why may we not, why dare we not,

Clean cut its knot, its painful knot?

 

 

 The Holy Friar's Consolation. 

 A voice she hears, a tender voice, Which says; No choice, my child, no choice Is left for thee, for me or thee. There's naught for thee, for thee or me, But bear the cross, the bitter cross. The cup of woe you now must drain, Will bring sweet gain, for you sweet gain. Pax vobiscum, my child; Pax vobiscum! Heaven's peace, dear maid, be thine, For evermore! Go seek its home at good St. Hilda's shrine; In holy mother's ears thy sorrows pour; Within those peaceful gates no earthly ill can come." 

A voice she hears, a tender voice,

Which says; No choice, my child, no choice

Is left for thee, for me or thee.

There's naught for thee, for thee or me,

But bear the cross, the bitter cross.

The cup of woe you now must drain,

 Prev. P 17/54 next