When Sister through the doorway peeps (Her mortal flesh a saint-dom seeks) And sees reclining ill at ease A wife in toils her lord to please. Then in her sacred hidden cell She prays, "Oh Lord, 'tis well, 'tis well Thy votaries with spirit fret," And cries, "Oh Lord here I am yet." But now the sainted Sister peeps And sees reclining there in heaps Two saints so fair that she must weep, Madonna and the child asleep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO-MORROW TO FRESH WOODS AND PASTURES NEW' by AMY LOWELL DOMESDAY BOOK: JANE FISHER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS PEACE; A STUDY by CHARLES STUART CALVERLEY THE SLAVE MOTHER by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER |