Stay! though the greenest woods be thy domain, Alone they can drink up the morning rain: Though a descended Pleiad, will not one
Of thine harmonious sisters keep in tune Thy spheres, and as thy silver proxy shine? So sweetly to these ravish'd ears of mine
Came thy sweet greeting, that if thou shouldst fade
Thy memory will waste me to a shade:--270
For pity do not melt!"--"If I should stay," Said Lamia, "here, upon this floor of clay,[19] And pain my steps upon these flowers too rough, What canst thou say or do of charm enough
To dull the nice remembrance of my home? Thou canst not ask me with thee here to 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 below280
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.[20] The cruel lady, without any show290
Of sorrow for her tender favourite's woe, But rather, if her eyes could brighter be, With brighter eyes and slow amenity,
Put her new lips to his, and gave afresh The life she had so tangled in her mesh: And as he from one trance was wakening Into another, she began to sing,
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 His drooping head, and clear his soul of doubt, For that she was a woman, and without[21]
Any more subtle fluid in her veins
Than throbbing blood, and that the self-same pains
Inhabited her frail-strung heart as his.
And next she wonder'd how his eyes could miss310
Her face so long in Corinth, where, she said,
12
She dwelt but half retir'd, and there had led Days happy as the gold coin could invent Without the aid of love; yet in content
Till she saw him, as once she pass'd him by, Where 'gainst a column he leant thoughtfully At Venus' temple porch, 'mid baskets heap'd Of amorous herbs and flowers, newly reap'd Late on that eve, as 'twas the night before
The Adonian feast; whereof she saw no more,320
But wept alone those days, for why should she adore? Lycius from death awoke into amaze,
To see her still, and singing so sweet lays;[22] Then from amaze into delight he fell
To hear her whisper woman's lore so well; And every word she spake entic'd him on
To unperplex'd delight and pleasure known. Let the mad poets say whate'er they please Of the sweets of Fairies, Peris, Goddesses, There is not such a treat among them all,330
Haunters of cavern, lake, and waterfall, As a real woman, lineal indeed
From Pyrrha's pebbles or old Adam's seed. Thus gentle Lamia judg'd, and judg'd aright, That Lycius could not love in half a fright, So threw the goddess off, and won his heart More pleasantly by playing woman's part,
With no more awe than what her beauty gave, That, while it smote, still guaranteed to save. Lycius to all made eloquent reply,340
Marrying to every word a twinborn sigh;[23] And last, pointing to Corinth, ask'd her sweet, If 'twas too far that night for her soft feet. The way was short, for Lamia's eagerness Made, by a spell, the triple league decrease
To a few paces; not at all surmised
By blinded Lycius, so in her comprized. They pass'd the city gates, he knew not how, So noiseless, and he never thought to know. As men talk in a dream, so Corinth all,350
Throughout her palaces imperial,
And all her populous streets and temples lewd, Mutter'd, like tempest in the distance brew'd, To the wide-spreaded night above her towers. Men, women, rich and poor, in the cool hours, Shuffled their sandals o'er the pavement white, Companion'd or alone; while many a light Flared, here and there, from wealthy festivals,
And threw their moving shadows on the walls,[24] Or found them cluster'd in the corniced shade360
Of some arch'd temple door, or dusky colonnade.
Muffling his face, of greeting friends in fear, Her fingers he press'd hard, as one came near
With curl'd gray beard, sharp eyes, and smooth bald crown,
Slow-stepp'd, and robed in philosophic gown: Lycius shrank closer, as they met and past, Into his mantle, adding wings to haste,
While hurried Lamia trembled: "Ah," said he,
"Why do you shudder, love, so ruefully?
13
Why does your tender palm dissolve in dew?"--370
"I'm wearied," said fair Lamia: "tell me who
Is that old man? I cannot bring to mind
His features:--Lycius! wherefore did you blind Yourself from his quick eyes?" Lycius replied, "'Tis Apollonius sage, my trusty guide[25]
And good instructor; but to-night he seems The ghost of folly haunting my sweet dreams." While yet he spake they had arrived before
A pillar'd porch, with lofty portal door,
Where hung a silver lamp, whose phosphor glow380
Reflected in the slabbed steps below, Mild as a star in water; for so new, And so unsullied was the marble hue,
So through the crystal polish, liquid fine,
Ran the dark veins, that none but feet divine Could e'er have touch'd there. Sounds AEolian Breath'd from the hinges, as the ample span Of the wide doors disclos'd a place unknown Some time to any, but those two alone,
And a few Persian mutes, who that same year390
Were seen about the markets: none knew where[26]
They could inhabit; the most curious
Were foil'd, who watch'd to trace them to their house: And but the flitter-winged verse must tell,
For truth's sake, what woe afterwards befel,
'Twould humour many a heart to leave them thus, Shut from the busy world of more incredulous. [27]
PART II.
Love in a hut, with water and a crust, Is--Love, forgive us!--cinders, ashes, dust; Love in a palace is perhaps at last
More grievous torment than a hermit's fast:--
That is a doubtful tale from faery land, Hard for the non-elect to understand. Had Lycius liv'd to hand his story down,
He might have given the moral a fresh frown,
Or clench'd it quite: but too short was their bliss
To breed distrust and hate, that make the soft voice hiss.10[28]
Besides, there, nightly, with terrific glare Love, jealous grown of so complete a pair, Hover'd and buzz'd his wings, with fearful roar, Above the lintel of their chamber door,
And down the passage cast a glow upon the floor.
For all this came a ruin: side by side They were enthroned, in the even tide, Upon a couch, near to a curtaining Whose airy texture, from a golden string,