roam Over these hills and vales, where no joy is, Empty of immortality and bliss! Thou art a scholar, Lycius, and must know That finer spirits cannot breathe below 280 In human climes, and live: Alas! poor youth, What taste of purer air hast thou to soothe My essence? What serener palaces, Where I may all my many senses please, And by mysterious sleights a hundred thirsts appease? It cannot be - Adieu!' So said, she rose Tiptoe with white arms spread. He, sick to lose The amorous promise of her lone complain, Swoon'd murmuring of love, and pale with pain. 290 The cruel lady, without any show Happy in beauty, life, and love, and every thing, A song of love, too sweet for earthly lyres, While, like held breath, the stars drew in their panting fires. 300 And then she whisper'd in such trembling tone, As those who, safe together met alone For the first time through many anguish'd days, Use other speech than looks; bidding him raise That purple-lined palace of sweet sin, 'Why do you sigh, fair creature?' whisper'd he: 40 'Why do you think?' return'd she tenderly: 'You have deserted me; - where am I now? Not in your heart while care weighs on your brow: No, no, you have dismiss'd me; and I go From your breast houseless: aye, it must be so.' He answer'd, bending to her open eyes, Aye, a sweet kiss woes. -you see your mighty My thoughts! shall I unveil them? Listen then! What mortal hath a prize, that other men May be confounded and abash'd withal, But lets it sometimes pace abroad majestical, And triumph, as in thee I should rejoice 60 Amid the hoarse alarm of Corinth's voice. Let my foes choke, and my friends shout afar, While through the thronged streets your bridal car Wheels round its dazzling spokes.' The lady's cheek Trembled; she nothing said, but, pale and meek, Arose and knelt before him, wept a rain Of sorrows at his words; at last with pain Beseeching him, the while his hand she wrung, To change his purpose. He thereat was stung, Perverse, with stronger fancy to reclaim 70 Fine was the mitigated fury, like The serpent she Was none. 80 She burnt, she loved the tyranny, And, all subdued, consented to the hour When to the bridal he should lead his par The glowing banquet-room shone with wide-arched grace. A haunting music, sole perhaps and lone Fresh carved cedar, mimicking a glade So canopied, lay an untasted feast Between the tree-stems, marbled plain at first, Came jasper panels; then, anon, there burst Forth creeping imagery of slighter trees, 140 And with the larger wove in small intricacies. Approving all, she faded at self-will, And shut the chamber up, close, hush'd and still, Complete and ready for the revels rude, When dreadful guests would come to spoil her solitude. |