The Night was more propitious to me, for then you stood before me in my dreams; You vowed to me eternal friendship; You led me through the paths of virtue, and assisted me to support the vexations of life.

The Morning dispelled these pleasing visions; I woke, and found myself separated from you by Barriers which appeared insurmountable.

Time seemed only to increase the strength of my passion: I grew melancholy and despondent; I fled from society, and my health declined daily.

At length no longer able to exist in this state of torture, I resolved to assume the disguise in which you see me.

My artifice was fortunate: I was received into the Monastery, and succeeded in gaining your esteem.
'Now then I should have felt compleatly happy, had not my quiet been disturbed by the fear of detection.