THE MOTHER OF GOD
 
 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?