She told her beads with down-cast eyes,
  Within the ancient chapel dim;
  And ever as her fingers slim
Slipt o'er th' insensate ivories,
My rapt soul followed, spaniel-wise.
Ah, many were the beads she wore;
  But as she told them o'er and o'er,
They did not number all my sighs.
My heart was filled with unvoiced cries
  And prayers and pleadings unexpressed;
  But while I burned with Love's unrest,
She told her beads with down-cast eyes.