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.