So She Became A Bird, And Bird-Like Danced On A Long Sloe-Bough, Treading The Silver Blossom With A Bird'S Lovely Feet; And Shaken Blossoms Fell Into The Hands Of Sunlight. And He Held Them For A Moment And Let Them Drop. And In The Autumn Procne Came Again And Leapt Upon The Crooked Sloe-Bough Singing, And The Dark Berries Winked Like Earth-Dimmed Beads, As The Branch Swung Beneath Her Dancing Feet.