LVII.
And so escaping from her death-like swoon,
Forth sped she to the clear and healthful air,
Fearing her shadow which the orbëd moon
Flung darkly on the moss-enwoven stair;
And her white feet, used to the silken shoon,
Chilled 'neath the stone so comfortless and bare,
Falling unechoed as she sped away,
Wing'd with the strength of wonder and dismay.