20

Here Dionysos, springing from his car At sight of Ariadne; here uplept Adonis to the chase, breaking the bar Of Aphrodite's arm for love who wept: He spear in hand, with leashed dogs at strain; A marvellous work. But Psyche soon grown fain Of rest, betook her to her bed and slept.

21

Nor long had slept, when at a sudden stir She woke; and one, that thro' the dark made way, Drew near, and stood beside; and over her The curtain rustl'd. Trembling now she lay, Fainting with terror: till upon her face A kiss, and with two gentle arms' embrace, A voice that call'd her name in loving play.

22

Though for the darkness she coud nothing see, She wish'd not then for what the night denied: This was the lover she had lack'd, and she, Loving his loving, was his willing bride.

O'erjoy'd she slept again, o'erjoy'd awoke At break of morn upon her love to look; When lo! his empty place lay by her side.

23

So all that day she spent in company Of the soft voices; and Of right, they said, Art thou our Lady now. Be happily Thy bridal morrow by thy servants sped.

But she but long'd for night, if that might bring Her lover back; and he on secret wing Came with the dark, and in the darkness fled.

24

And this was all her life; for every night He came, and though his name she never learn'd, Nor was his image yielded to her sight At morn or eve, she neither look'd nor yearn'd Beyond her happiness: and custom brought An ease to pleasure; nor would Psyche's thought Have ever to her earthly home return'd,

25

But that one night he said 'Psyche, my soul, Sad danger threatens us: thy sisters twain Come to the mountain top, whence I thee stole, And thou wilt hear their voices thence complain.

Answer them not: for it must end our love If they should hear or spy thee from above.'

And Psyche said 'Their cry shall be in vain.'

26

But being again alone, she thought 'twas hard On her own blood; and blamed her joy as thief Of theirs, her comfort which their comfort barr'd; When she their care might be their care's relief.

All day she brooded on her father's woe, And when at night her lover kisst her, lo!

Her tender face was wet with tears of grief.

27

Then question'd why she wept, she all confest; And begg'd of him she might but once go nigh To set her sire's and sisters' fears at rest; Till he for pity coud not but comply: 'Only if they should ask thee of thy love Discover nothing to their ears above.'

And Psyche said 'In vain shall be their cry.'

28

And yet with day no sooner was alone, Than she for loneliness her promise rued: That having so much pleasure for her own, 'Twas all unshared and spent in solitude.

And when at night her love flew to his place, More than afore she shamed his fond embrace, And piteously with tears her plaint renew'd.

29

The more he now denied, the more she wept; Nor would in anywise be comforted, Unless her sisters, on the Zephyr swept, Should in those halls be one day bathed and fed, And see themselves the palace where she reign'd.

And he, by force of tears at last constrain'd, Granted her wish unwillingly, and said:

30

'Much to our peril hast thou won thy will; Thy sisters' love, seeing thee honour'd so, Will sour to envy, and with jealous skill Will pry to learn the thing that none may know.

Answer not, nor inquire; for know that I The day thou seest my face far hence shall fly, And thou anew to bitterest fate must go.'

31

But Psyche said, 'Thy love is more than life; To have thee leaveth nothing to be won: For should the noonday prove me to be wife Even of the beauteous Eros, who is son Of Cypris, I coud never love thee more.'

Whereat he fondly kisst her o'er and o'er, And peace was 'twixt them till the night was done.

SECOND QUARTER

SUMMER

PSYCHE'S SISTERS SNARING HER TO DESTRUCTION ARE THEMSELVES DESTROYED

JUNE

1

And truly need there was to the old King For consolation: since the mournful day Of Psyche's fate he took no comforting, But only for a speedy death would pray; And on his head his hair grew silver-white.

--Such on life's topmost bough is sorrow's blight, When the stout heart is cankering to decay.

2

Which when his daughters learnt, they both were quick Comfort and solace to their sire to lend.

But as not seldom they who nurse the sick Will take the malady from them they tend, So happ'd it now; for they who fail'd to cheer Grew sad themselves, and in that palace drear Increased the evil that they came to mend.

3

And them the unhappy father sent to seek Where Psyche had been left, if they might find What monster held her on the savage peak; Or if she there had died of hunger pined, And, by wild eagles stript, her scatter'd bones Might still be gather'd from the barren stones; Or if her fate had left no trace behind.