Destroyers and Other Verses/To Her There Came At Dawn, As She Lay Still

To her there came at dawn, as she lay still,

A sense of moth-wings fluttering in the dark;

Then with swift stroke of the imprisoned lark,

Beating his lowly cage; whereat a thrill

Shot through her members, and as clouds distil

In heavy drops, unloaded by a spark,

She wept with joy, though she must now embark

Upon that lonely journey fraught with ill.

Yet never a word she spake to him that lay

Beside her: but her carriage was so proud,

Her secret became plain, as it may be

A child reveals some hidden joy in play:

She bore herself as if she were endowed

A tabernacle for some mystery.