The Nun

Leigh Hunt

1784 to 1859

Poem Image

If you become a nun, dear, 
A friar I will be;
In any cell you run, dear, 
Pray look behind for me. 
The rose, of course, turns pale too; 
The doves all take the veil too; 
The blind will see the show; 
What! you become a nun, my dear? 
I'll not believe it, no.

If you become a nun, dear,
The bishop Love will be; 
The cupids every one, dear,
Will chaunt "we trust in thee:" 
The incense will go sighing, 
The candles fall a dying,
The water turn to wine:
What! you go take the vows, my dear?
You may — but they'll be mine.