Variant (As I was turning from the struggle)

As I was turning from the struggle
One came and spoke to me
Strange lighted words
Like the silence of singing birds
In a dawn-tree
She said to me
'The lonely triumphant have known
No bed-fellow but me
A dream carved in stone'
And then she was gone
Yet I blessed
The bitterness of the struggle that would lay me
On this dream's breast.