An Apparition of her lover She recognizes with dismay; and later on she will discover that he himself had died today.
The Drudge expends her life in mopping, In emptying and filling pails; And She will do so, never stopping, Until her strength entirely fails.
The Effigy got up with clothing Abstracted from the victim's room Is raised aleft to cheers of loathing Before it meets a flaming doom
The Hermit lives among the boulders, He wears no grament but a sack; By low degrees his reason moulders, The sun has long since burnt him black.
The Lazar, blessed with an appearance Enough to give the strongest qualms, Has little need of perseverance in promting a display of alms.
The Nun is fearfully bedevilled: She runs about and moans and shrieks; Her flesh is bruised, her clothes dishevelled: She's been like this for weeks and weeks.
The Quarry, fleeing from the outing, Sinks panting in the reeds and mud: And hearkens to the distant shouting That tells him they are out for blood
The Suicide, as she is falling, Illuminated by the moon, Regrets her act, and finds appalling The thought she will be dead so soon.