The Convent Threshold
There's blood between us, love, my love,
There's father's blood, there's brother's blood,
And blood's a bar I cannot pass
I choose the stairs that mount above,
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There's blood between us, love, my love,
There's father's blood, there's brother's blood,
And blood's a bar I cannot pass
I choose the stairs that mount above,
Stranger, that massy, mouldering pile,
Whose ivied ruins load the ground,
Reechoed once to pious
By holy sisters breathed around
The Convent garden lies so near The road the people go,
If it was quiet you might hear The nuns' talk, merry and low
Black London trees have made their screen From folk who pry and peer,
The sooty sparrows now begin Their talk of co...