She yields to thee; do with her as thou wilt.
She shuts her wings in utter weariness,
For she has wandered all night long astray,
And found no rest—no fountain of sweet love,
Save such as mocked her with a maddening thirst.
She asks of thine repose, protection, peace;
Implores thee with wild tears and passionate prayers
To give her shelter through the night of Time,
And lead her home at morn; for long ago
She lost her way.