The Pitiful Prioress

There was also a nun, a prioress
She was so charitable and so piteous
She would weep if that she saw a mouse
Caught in a trap, if it were dead or bled.
Of small hounds had she, that she fed
With roasted flesh, and milk, and wastel-bread,
But sore wept she if one of them were dead,
Or if men smote it with a yard smart
And all was conscience and tender heart.
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