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'When glided in Porphyria; straight She shut the cold out and the storm, And kneeled and made the cheerless grate Blaze up, and all the cottage warm'
'Made her smooth white shoulder bare, And all her yellow hair displaced, And, stooping, made my cheek lie there, And spread, o'er all, her yellow hair
'Happy and proud; at last I knew Porphyria worshipped me; surprise Made my heart swell, and still it grew While I debated what to do.'
'In one long yellow string I wound Three times her little throat around'
'I warily oped her lids: again Laughed the blue eyes without a stain. And I untightened next the tress'
'I propped her head up as before, Only, this time my shoulder bore Her head, which droops upon it still: The smiling rosy little head'
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