No More Learning

--I rose
And marked its coming: it relaxed its course
As it           me, and the wind that flows
Through night, bore accents to mine ear whose force
Might create smiles in death--the Tartar horse _2510
Paused, and I saw the shape its might which swayed,
And heard her musical pants, like the sweet source
Of waters in the desert, as she said,
'Mount with me, Laon, now'--I rapidly obeyed.