THE tapers are blazing, the mass is sung,

In the chapel of Beverley,

And merrily too the bells have rung;

'Tis the eve of our Lord's nativity;

And the holy maids are kneeling round,

While the moon shines bright on the hallow'd ground.

The nuns have risen through the cloister dim,

Each seeks her lonely cell;

To pray alone till the joyful hymn

On the midnight breeze shall swell;

And all are gone save two sisters fair

Who stand in the moonlight silent there.

Now hand in hand, through the shadowy aisle,

Like airy things they've past,

With noiseless step, and with gentle smile,

And meek eyes heavenward cast;

Like things too pure upon earth to stay,

They have fled like a vision of light away.

And again the merry bells have rung,

So sweet through the starry sky;

For the midnight mass hath this night been sung,

And the chalice is lifted high,

And the nuns are kneeling in holiest pray'r,

Yes, all, save these meek-eyed sisters fair.

Then up rose the abbess, she sought around,

But in vain, for these gentle maids;

They were ever the first at the mass bell's sound,

Have they fled these holy shades?

Or can they be numbered among the dead?

Oh! whither can these fair maids be fled?

The snows have melted, the fields are green,

The cuckoo singeth aloud,

And summer is come in rosy pride,

'Tis the eve of the blessed Saint John,

And the holy nuns after vespertide,

All forth from the chapel are gone;

While to taste the cool of the evening hour

The abbess hath sought the topmost tower.

"Gramercy, sweet ladye! and can it be,

The long lost sisters fair

On the threshold lie calm, and silently,

As in holiest slumber there!

Yet sleep they not, but entranced they lie,

With lifted hands and heavenward eye.

"O long lost maidens, arise! arise!

Say when did ye hither stray."

They have turn'd to the abbess with their meek blue eyes,

"Not an hour hath passed away

But glorious visions our eyes have seen;

Oh sure in the kingdom of heaven we've been!"

There is joy in the convent of Beverley,

Now these saintly maidens are found,

And to hear their story right wonderingly,

The nuns have gathered around—

The long lost maidens, to whom was given,

To live so long the life of heaven.

And again the chapel bell is rung,

And all to the altar repair,

And sweetly the midnight lauds are sung,

By the sainted sisters there;

The maidens have risen, with noiseless tread

They glide o'er the marble floor;

They seek the abbess with bended head,—

"Thy blessing we would implore,

Dear mother! for ere the coming day

Shall burst into light, we must hence away."

The abbess hath lifted her gentle hands,

And the words of peace hath said,

O vade in pacem, aghast she stands,

Have their innocent spirits fled?

Yes, side by side lie these maidens fair,

Like two wreaths of snow in the moonlight there.

List! List! the sweet peal of the convent bells,

They are rung by no earthly hand,

And hark how the far off melody swells

Of the joyful angel band,

Who hover around surpassingly bright,

And the chapel is bathed in rosy light.

'Tis o'er! side by side in the chapel fair,

Are the sainted maidens laid;

With their snowy brow, and their glossy hair,

They look not like the dead;

Fifty summers have come and passed away,

But their loveliness knoweth no decay!

And many a chaplet of flowers is hung,

And many a bead told there,

And many a hymn of praise is sung,

And many a low breathed pray'r;

And many a pilgrim bends the knee,

At the shrine of the sisters of Beverley.