Showed my courage to be such, That the king himself, as guerdon Of my valour, gave to me The commission of an ensign. How that debt I soon repaid, I prefer not now to tell thee. Back to Perpignan, thus honoured, I returned, and having entered Once a guard-house there to play, For some trifle I lost temper, Struck a serjeant, killed a captain, And maimed others there assembled. At the cries from every quarter Speedily the watch collected, And in flying to a church, As they hurried to prevent me, I a catch-pole killed. ('Twas something One good work to have effected 'Mid so many that were bad.) May God rest his soul in heaven!-- Far I fled into the country, And asylum found and shelter In a convent of religious, Which was founded in that desert, Where I lived retired and hidden, Well taken care of and attended. For a lady there, a nun, Was my cousin, which connection Gave to her the special burden Of this care. My heart already Being a basilisk which turned All the honey into venom, Passing swiftly from mere liking To desire -- that monster ever Feeding on the impossible -- Living fire that with intensest Fury burns when most opposed -- Flame the wind revives and strengthens, False, deceitful, treacherous foe Which doth murder its possessor -- In a word, desire in him, Who nor God nor law respecteth, Of the horrible, of the shocking, Thinks but only to attempt it.-- Yes, I dared . . . . But here disturbed, When, my lord, I this remember, Mute the voice in horror fails, Sad the accent faints and trembles, And as 'mid the night's dark shadows, The hair stands on end through terror; Thus confused, so full of doubt, Sad remembrance so o'erwhelms me, That the thing I dared to do I scarce dare in words to tell thee. For, in fine, my crime is such, So to be abhorred, detested, So profane, so sacrilegious (Strange upon thee so to press it), That for having such committed I at times feel some repentance. Well, in fine, I dared one night, When deep silence had erected Sepulchres of fleeting sleep For men's overwearied senses, When a dark and cloudy veil Heaven had o'er its face extended -- Mourning which the wind assumed For the sun whose life had ended -- In whose obsequies the night-birds Swan-notes sang instead of verses, And when back from waves of sapphire, Where their beauty was reflected, The clear stars a second time Trembling lights to heaven presented:-- Well, on such a night, by climbing O'er the garden wall, I entered With the assistance of two friends (For when such things are attempted An associate never fails), And in horror and in terror, Seeking in the dark my death, Reached at length the cell (I tremble To remember it) in which Was my cousin, whom respectful Silence bids me not to name, Though all self-respect has left me. Frightened at such nameless horror, On the hard floor she fell senseless, When she passed into my arms, And ere she regained her senses, She already was outside Her asylum, in a desert,