Within the quiet of the convent-cell;

The well-fed inmates pattered prayer, and slept,

And sinned, and liked their easy penance well.

Where pleasant was the spot for men to dwell,

Amid its fair broad lands the abbey lay,

Sheltering dark orgies that were shame to tell,

And cowled and barefoot beggars swarmed the way,

All in their convent weeds, of black, and white, and gray.

17

XXI

 Oh, sweetly the returning muses' strain Swelled over that famed stream, whose gentle tide In their bright lap the Etrurian vales detain, Sweet, as when winter storms have ceased to chide, And all the new-leaved woods, resounding wide, Send out wild hymns upon the scented air. Lo! to the smiling Arno's classic side The emulous nations of the West repair, And kindle their quenched urns, and drink fresh spirit there. 

Oh, sweetly the returning muses' strain

Swelled over that famed stream, whose gentle tide

In their bright lap the Etrurian vales detain,

Sweet, as when winter storms have ceased to chide,

And all the new-leaved woods, resounding wide,

Send out wild hymns upon the scented air.

Lo! to the smiling Arno's classic side

The emulous nations of the West repair,

 Prev. P 28/758 next