Soeur Louise De La Misricorde.

(1674.)     I have desired, and I have been desired;     But now the days are over of desire,     Now dust and dying embers mock my fire;     Where is the hire for which my life was hired?     Oh vanity of vanities, desire!     Longing and love, pangs of a perished pleasure,     Longing and love, a disenkindled fire,     And memory a bottomless gulf of mire,     And love a fount of tears outrunning measure;     Oh vanity of vanities, desire!     Now from my heart, love's deathbed, trickles, trickles,     Drop by drop slowly, drop by drop of fire,     The dross of life, of love, of spent desire;     Alas, my rose of life gone all to prickles, -     Oh vanity of vanities, desire!     Oh vanity of vanities, desire;     Stunting my hope which might have strained up higher,     Turning my garden plot to barren mire;     Oh death-struck love, oh disenkindled fire,     Oh vanity of vanities, desire!