Then in my gown of sober grey

E. Flower

Then in my gown of sober gray

Along the mountain path I'll wander,

And wind my solitary way

To the sad shrine that courts me yonder.

There, in the calm monastic shade,

All injuries may be forgiven;

And there for thee, obdurate maid,

My orisons shall rise to heaven.

THE CRUEL LADY OF THE MOUNTAINS.