Yet well the luckless wretch might shriek,
Well might her paleness terror speak! 435
For there were seen in that dark wall,
Two niches, narrow, deep, and tall;--
Who enters at such grisly door,
Shall ne'er, I ween, find exit more.
In each a slender meal was laid, 440
Of roots, of water, and of bread:
By each, in Benedictine dress,
Two haggard monks stood motionless;
Who, holding high a blazing torch,
Show'd the grim entrance of the porch: 445
Reflecting back the smoky beam,
The dark-red walls and arches gleam.
Hewn stones and cement were display'd,
And building tools in order laid.