And strove to sit upright;

But, tautly, with a jerk,

The thongs that held me to my brothers,

Dragged me back to earth.

Awhile I lay, with staring eyes, awake,

Watching a big, grey spider, crouched overhead,

In ambush 'neath a twig, beside her web,

Oft sallying out, to bind yet more securely,

The half-entangled flies.

And then, once more, I slumbered;

And dreamed a face leant over me,

More fair than any face

My waking eyes had ever looked upon.

Its beauty burned above me,

Not dusky like my sisters' faces,

But pale as the wan moon,

Reflected in a flood

Of darkly flowing waters,

Or as the creaming froth,

That, born amid the thunder of the fall,

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