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She Took the Veil

She took the Veil: I wondered why,
    And could not understand;
For oh I loved her like to die
    And sought to win her hand.
But no, she chose the Living Grave,
    Though paths of light we trod,
And in a convent grim she gave
                            Herself to God.

Her cheeks were like the rambler rose,
    Her eyes a lupin blue;
No sweeter blossom could unclose
    To greet the morning dew.
And yet she chose the cloister gloom
    Rather than be my wife,
In grisly garb to dreary doom
                            Condemned for life.

It is some madness of the mood
    That makes a maid to pray,
When her dream might be motherhood,
    A wife's her worthy way?
My heart for her with worship throbbed
    Beyond all saintly pride,
And now I curse the God who robbed
                            Me of my bride.