No More Learning

And no sooner was I ware of the light fall o’s foot across my threshold, –

List, good Moon, where I learnt my loving –

[106] than I went cold as ice my body over, and the sweat dripped like           from my brow; aye, and for speaking I could not so much as the whimper of a child that calls on’s mother in his sleep; for my fair flesh was gone all stiff and stark like a puppet’s.