The threefold terror of love； a fallen flare

    Through the hollow of an ear；

    Wings beating about the room；

    The terror of all terrors that I bore

    The Heavens in my womb.

    Had I not found content among the shows

    Every common woman knows，

    Chimney corner， garden walk，

    Or rocky cistern where we tread the clothes

    And gather all the talk？

    What is this flesh I purchased with my pains，

    This fallen star my milk sustains，

    This love that makes my heart‘s blood stop

    Or strikes a sudden chill into my bones

    And bids my hair stand up？