WITHOUT, NOT WITHIN HER

It was what you bore with you, Woman,

Not inly were,

That throned you from all else human,

However fair!

It was that strange freshness you carried

Into a soul

Whereon no thought of yours tarried

Two moments at all.

And out from his spirit flew death,

And bale, and ban,

Like the corn-chaff under the breath

Of the winnowing-fan.