Whether of holy church a duteous child
Before our court appears, so not unlike ⁠345
Heaven might vouchsafe its gracious miracle:
Or silly heretic whose erring thoughts
Monstrous and vain perchance might stray beyond
All reason, and conceit strange dreams and signs
Impossible? Say, woman, from thy youth ⁠350
Hast thou (as rightly mother church demands)
To holy Priest confess'd each secret sin,
So purged by grace to him vouchsaf'd from Heaven,
Of absolution?
⁠"Father," she replied,
"In forest shade my infant years train'd up ⁠355
Knew not devotion's forms. The chaunted mass,
The silver altar and religious robe,
The mystic wafer and the hallowed cup,
Gods priest-created, are to me unknown.
Beneath no high-arch'd roof I bow'd in prayer, ⁠360
No solemn light by storied pane disguis'd,
No trophied pillars, and no imag'd cross