THIRD QUARTER

AUTUMN

PSYCHE'S WANDERINGS

SEPTEMBER

1

On the h.e.l.lenic board of Crete's fair isle, Westward of Drepanon, along a reach Which ma.s.sy Cyamum for many a mile Jutting to sea delivers from the breach Of North and East,--returning to embay The favour'd sh.o.r.e--an ancient city lay, Aptera, which is _Wingless_ in our speech.

2

And hence the name; that here in rocky cove, Thence called Museion, was the trial waged What day the Sirens with the Muses strove, By jealous Hera in that war engaged: Wherein the daughters of Mnemosyne O'ercame the chauntresses who vex'd the sea, Nor vengeance spared them by their pride enraged.

3

For those strange creatures, who with women's words And wiles made ravenous prey of pa.s.sers-by, Were throated with the liquid pipe of birds: Of love they sang; and none, who sail'd anigh Through the grey hazes of the cyanine sea, Had wit the whirlpool of that song to flee, Nor fear'd the talon hook'd and feather'd thigh.

4

But them the singers of the G.o.ds o'ercame, And pluck'd them of their plumage, where in fright They vainly flutter'd off to hide their shame, Upon two rocks that lie within the bight, Under the headland, barren and alone; Which, being with the scatter'd feathers strewn, Were by the folk named Leukae, which is _White_.

5

Thereon about this time the snowy gull, Minion of Aphrodite, being come, Plumed himself, standing on the sea-wrack dull, That drifted from the foot of Cyamum; And 'twas his thought, that had the G.o.ddess learnt The tale of Psyche loved and Eros burnt, She ne'er so long had kept aloof and dumb.

6

Wherefore that duteous gossip of Love's queen Devised that he the messenger would be; And rising from the rock, he skim'd between The chasing waves--such grace have none but he;-- Into the middle deep then down he dived, And rowing with his glistening wings arrived At Aphrodite's bower beneath the sea.

7

The eddies from his silver pinions swirl'd The crimson, green, and yellow floss, that grew About the caves, and at his pa.s.sing curl'd Its graceful silk, and gently waved anew: Till, oaring here and there, the queen he found Stray'd from her haunt unto a sandy ground, Dappl'd with eye-rings in the sunlight blue.

8

She, as he came upon her from above, With Hora play'd; Hora, her herald fair, That lays the soft necessity of Love On maidens' eyelids, and with tender care Marketh the hour, as in all works is fit: And happy they in love who time outwit, Fondly constrained in her season rare.

9

But he with garrulous and laughing tongue Broke up his news; how Eros, fallen sick, Lay tossing on his bed, to frenzy stung By such a burn as did but barely p.r.i.c.k: A little bleb, no bigger than a pease, Upon his shoulder 'twas, that kill'd his ease, Fever'd his heart, and made his breathing thick.

10

'For which disaster hath he not been seen This many a day at all in any place: And thou, dear mistress,' piped he, 'hast not been Thyself amongst us now a dreary s.p.a.ce: The pining mortals suffer from a dearth Of love; and for this sadness of the earth Thy family is darken'd with disgrace.

11

'Now on the secret paths of dale and wood, Where lovers walk'd are lovers none to find: And friends, besworn to equal brotherhood, Forget their faith, and part with words unkind: In the first moon thy honey-bond is loath'd: And I coud tell even of the new-betroth'd That fly o'ersea, and leave their loves behind.

12

'Summer is over, but the merry pipe, That wont to cheer the harvesting, is mute: And in the vineyards, where the grape is ripe, No voice is heard of them that take the fruit.

No workman singeth at eve nor maiden danceth: All joy is dead, and as the year advanceth The signs of woe increase on man and brute.

13

''Tis plain that if thy pleasure longer pause, Thy mighty rule on earth hath seen its day: The race must come to perish, and no cause But that thou sittest with thy nymphs at play, While on a Cretan hill thy truant boy Hath with his pretty mistress turn'd to toy, And less for pain than love pineth away.'

14

'Ha! Mistress!' cried she; 'Hath my beardless son Been hunting for himself his lovely game?

Some young Orestiad hath his fancy won?

Some Naiad? say; or is a Grace his flame?

Or maybe Muse, and then 'tis Erato, The trifling wanton. Tell me, if thou know, Woman or G.o.ddess is she? and her name.'

15

Then said the snowy gull, 'O heavenly queen, What is my knowledge, who am but a bird?

Yet is she only mortal, as I ween, And named Psyche, if I rightly heard.'-- But Aphrodite's look daunted his cheer, Ascare he fled away, screaming in fear, To see what wrath his simple tale had stirr'd.

16

He flasht his pens, and sweeping widely round Tower'd to air; so swift in all his way, That whence he dived he there again was found As soon as if he had but dipt for prey: And now, or e'er he join'd his wailful flock, Once more he stood upon the Sirens' rock, And preen'd his ruffl'd quills for fresh display.

17

But as ill tidings will their truth a.s.sure Without more witness than their fatal sense, So, since was nothing bitterer to endure, The injured G.o.ddess guess'd the full offence: And doubted only whether first to smite Or Psyche for her new presumptuous flight, Or Eros for his disobedience.