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St. Rosolia, her patroness; she recommended herself to the protection of heaven, and, as had been her custom from infancy, concluded her devotions by chaunting the following stanzas:
MIDNIGHT HYMN.
Now all is hush'd; the solemn chime
No longer swells the nightly gale:
Thy awful presence, hour sublime,
With spotless heart once more I hail.
No longer swells the nightly gale:
Thy awful presence, hour sublime,
With spotless heart once more I hail.
'Tis now the moment still and dread,
When sorcerers use their baleful power;
When graves give up their buried dead
To profit by the sanctioned hour.
When sorcerers use their baleful power;
When graves give up their buried dead
To profit by the sanctioned hour.
From guilt and guilty thoughts secure,
To duty and devotion true,
With bosom light and conscience pure,
Repose, thy gentle aid I woo.
To duty and devotion true,
With bosom light and conscience pure,
Repose, thy gentle aid I woo.
Good angels! take my thanks, that still
The snares of vice I view with scorn;
Thanks, that to-night as free from ill
I sleep, as when I woke at morn.
The snares of vice I view with scorn;
Thanks, that to-night as free from ill
I sleep, as when I woke at morn.
Yet may not my unconscious breast
Harbour some guilt to me unknown?
Some wish impure, which unreprest
You blush to see, and I to own?
Harbour some guilt to me unknown?
Some wish impure, which unreprest
You blush to see, and I to own?
