Companion'd or alone; while many a light
Flar'd, here and there, from wealthy festivals,
And threw their moving shadows on the walls,
Or found them clustered in the cornic'd shade
Of some arched temple door, or dusky colonnade.

Muffling his face, of greeting friends in fear, Her fingers he press'd hard, as one came near

With curled gray beard, sharp eyes, and smooth bald

crown,

Slow-stepped, 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?
Why does your tender palm dissolve in dew?
"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,
"T is Apollonius sage, my trusty guide
And good instructor; but to-night he seems
The ghost of folly haunting my sweet dreams."

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And so unsullied was the marble's 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 Æolian
Breath'd from the hinges, as the ample span

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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 year

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Were seen about the markets: none knew where

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 befell,

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'T would humour many a heart to leave them thus, Shut from the busy world of more incredulous.

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 fairy 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

5

'To breed distrust and hate, that make the soft voice hiss. 10

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.

15

For all this came a ruin: side by side

They were enthroned, in the eventide,
Upon a couch, near to a curtaining
Whose airy texture, from a golden string,
Floated into the room, and let appear

Unveil'd the summer heaven, blue and clear,
Betwixt two marble shafts: there they repos'd,
Where use had made it sweet, with eyelids closed,

Saving a tithe which love still open kept,

20

That they might see each other while they almost slept; 25 When from the slope side of a suburb hill,

Deafening the swallow's twitter, came a thrill

Of trumpets Lycius started the sounds fled,

But left a thought, a buzzing in his head.

For the first time, since first he harbour'd in
That purple-lined palace of sweet sin,

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His spirit pass'd beyond its golden bourn

Into the noisy world almost forsworn.
The lady, ever watchful, penetrant,
Saw this with pain, so arguing a want
Of something more, more than her empery
Of joys; and she began to moan and sigh
Because he mus'd beyond her, knowing well

That but a moment's thought is passion's passing-bell.
Why do you sigh, fair creature?" whisper'd he:

ee

"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 : ay, it must be so."
He answer'd, bending to her open eyes,
Where he was mirror'd small in paradise,
"My silver planet, both of eve and morn!
Why will you plead yourself so sad forlorn,
While I am striving how to fill my heart
With deeper crimson, and a double smart?
How to entangle, trammel up and snare
Your soul in mine, and labyrinth you there
Like the hid scent in an unbudded rose?

Ay, a sweet kiss

you see your mighty woes.

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

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

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40

45

50

55

60

Wheels round its dazzling spokes."

The lady's cheek

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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
Her wild and timid nature to his aim :
Besides, for all his love, in self-despite,
Against his better self, he took delight
Luxurious in her sorrows, soft and new.

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His passion, cruel grown, took on a hue

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Fierce and sanguineous as 't was possible

In one whose brow had no dark veins to swell.
Fine was the mitigated fury, like

Apollo's presence when in act to strike

The serpent Ha, the serpent! certes, she

Was none.

She burnt, she lov'd the tyranny,

And, all subdued, consented to the hour

When to the bridal he should lead his paramour.

Whispering in midnight silence, said the youth,

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"Sure some sweet name thou hast, though, by my truth, 85 I have not ask'd it, ever thinking thee

Not mortal, but of heavenly progeny,
As still I do. Hast any mortal name,
Fit appellation for this dazzling frame?
Or friends or kinsfolk on the citied earth,

To share our marriage feast and nuptial mirth?"

"I have no friends," said Lamia, "no, not one;
My presence in wide Corinth hardly known:
My parents' bones are in their dusty urns
Sepulchred, where no kindled incense burns,
Seeing all their luckless race are dead, save me,
And I neglect the holy rite for thee.

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