Elizabeth fell on her knees by the window-seat and hid her face. The wind still sang in her ears.
CHAPTER XIX
THE FULL MOON
The sun was cold, the dark dead Moon
Hung low behind dull leaden bars,
And you came barefoot down the sky
Between the grey unlighted Stars.
You laid your hand upon my soul,
My soul that cried to you for rest,
And all the light of the lost Sun
Was in the comfort of your breast.