When from my books I turn to the sight of the world,

I am touched by a prick, which troubles my spirit.

I fancy I hear the sweet voice of my mistress

Speak with a tone that is melting with sadness.

Whenever my mistress raises her voice in song,

The fairies of the mountain reËcho the air.

The fishes in the sea dart about rejoicing,

And the sailors on the deck dance gaily as they hear it.

The rocks upon the mountain split themselves asunder

In hearing her voice and seeing her beauty.

When I cast a glance, which rests upon my mistress,

It seems to me I see the queen of all the maidens.

Her dainty hands are mingled with red and with white,

And her eyes are brilliant as the stars in the sky.

Her two cheeks are roses of a natural color,

And her lips are as sweet as the pure honeycomb.

—
Good morning, my fair maiden, on my knees I fall

To ask your benediction to become a Capuchin.

To ask your benediction to become a Recollet,

In St. Francis convent, in the village of Morlaix.

—Oh, enough of Recollets has St. Francis's convent,

And enough of priests has the village of Morlaix.

There are enough of priests everywhere in the country,

Marry the one you love, and God will also love you.

If you become a Recollet at St. Francis convent,

I will go to the Calvary and there become a nun.

There we will hear together the bells of our two convents,

And there we will be singing the praises of our Lord.

There we will be singing, with our lifted voices,

The Gloria in Excelsis and the Salve Regina.

The hero of the piece entitled I will be neither Priest nor Monk is made of more determined stuff, and demands that his books shall be thrown into the fire, and liberty given him to marry the object of his love, or else he will die:—