The woman was more easy to understand. He liked the woman⁠—he liked the rough shaggy boy Who had lived so much in the woods to keep from the armies That his ears were sharp as a squirrel’s, and all his movements Had something untamed about them, something leafy and strange. Of course he ought to be fighting for the North, He was really a skulk⁠—but things were different here. You couldn’t reason about the difference in words But you felt it inside your skin. Things were different here. Like Nibelung Hall in the rain of his fever-dream, But with no terror, with an indolent peace.