Leaving me rigid, filled with winter frosts:
For I remembered how, when we were young,
And shared one chamber in the donjon keep,
When she awoke, and felt the darkness, thick
And fearful, on her sunshine-loving eyes,
First she would call to me, and then, grown brave
At her own tongue’s sweet music, cross the floor
To creep into my bed, and cling to me,
Telling me how she dreamed that she was dead.
Think of that black and lustful ravening beast