XVII.
Away! away! and woe betide thee!
I nerer, never will be thine!
I in the oak's rough bark will hide me,
In glades where sun shall never shine.
XVIII.
Yet, Magali, thou shalt be mine,
Who hast defied me!
I will the knotted ivy be,
Fast binding thee!
XIX.
The hoary oak alone thou stayest
In thy victorious embrace!
For I to Saint Blasè will haste,
With the white nuns to take my place.
XX.
O Magali! thou shalt find grace
When there thou prayest,
For I the shaven priest will be,
Absolving thee!
XXI.
And if thou pass the portal holy,
A weeping train thou shalt descry,—
The convent-sisters wending slowly
About the coffin where I lie.
XXII.
Then, Magali, right glad were I!
That sleeper lowly
Wert thou, I would the warm earth be,
Aye clasping thee.
