The general gladness: awfully he stands; A sovereign quell1 is in his waving hands; No sight can bear the lightning of his bow; His quiver is mysterious, none can know 540 What themselves think of it; from forth his eyes

There darts strange light of varied hues
and dyes:

A scowl is sometimes on his brow, but who
Look full upon it feel anon the blue

car,

Up went the hum celestial. High afar
The Latmian saw them minish into naught;
And, when all were clear vanish'd, still he
caught

A vivid lightning from that dreadful bow.

souls.

545 Endymion feels it, and no more controls The burning prayer within him; so, bent low,

He had begun a plaining of his woe.
But Venus, bending forward, said: "My
child,

Favor this gentle youth; his days are wild 550 With love-he-but alas! too well I see

The earth clos'd-gave a solitary moanAnd left him once again in twilight lone.

Thou know'st the deepness of his misery.
Ah, smile not so, my son: I tell thee true,
That when through heavy hours I used to 595

rue

The endless sleep of this new-born Adon', 555 This stranger aye I pitied. For upon

A dreary morning once I fled away
Into the breezy clouds, to weep and pray
For this my love: for vexing Mars had
teas'd

Me even to tears: thence, when a little
eas'd,

560 Down-looking, vacant, through a hazy wood,

I saw this youth as he despairing stood: Those same dark curls blown vagrant in the wind;

Those same full fringed lids a constant blind

Over his sullen eyes: I saw him throw 565 Himself on wither'd leaves, even as though Death had come sudden; for no jot he mov'd,

Yet mutter'd wildly. I could hear he lov'd
Some fair immortal, and that his embrace
Had zoned2 her through the night. There
is no trace

600

Of happy times, when all he had endur'd Would seem a feather to the mighty prize. So, with unusual gladness, on he hies Through caves, and palaces of mottled ore, Gold dome, and crystal wall, and turquois floor.

Black polish'd porticos of awful shade, And, at the last, a diamond balustrade, Leading afar past wild magnificence, Spiral through ruggedest loopholes, and thence

Stretching across a void, then guiding o'er Enormous chasms, where, all foam and

roar,

Streams subterranean tease their granite

beds;

Done heedlessly, those spouting columns

rose

Sudden a poplar's height, and 'gan to enclose

His diamond path with fretwork, streaming round

Alive, and dazzling cool, and with a sound, Haply, like dolphin tumults, when sweet shells

Welcome the float of Thetis. Long he

dwells

On this delight; for, every minute's space,
The streams with changed magic interlace:
Sometimes like delicatest lattices,
Cover'd with crystal vines; then weeping

trees,

Forth from a rugged arch, in the dusk below,

640 Came mother Cybele! alone-alone

675

So thick with leaves and mosses, that they seem'd

Large honey-combs of green, and freshly teem'd3

With airs delicious. In the greenest nook The eagle landed him, and farewell took.

It was a jasmine bower, all bestrown With golden moss. His every sense had

grown

Ethereal for pleasure; 'bove his head Flew a delight half-graspable; his tread Was Hesperean; to his capable ears Silence was music from the holy spheres;* A dewy luxury was in his eyes;

The little flowers felt his pleasant sighs And stirr'd them faintly. Verdant cave

and cell

He wander'd through, oft wondering at such swell

Of sudden exaltation: but, "Alas,"
Said he, "will all this gush of feeling pass
Away in solitude? And must they wane,
Like melodies upon a sandy plain,
Without an echo? Then shall I be left
So sad, so melancholy, so bereft!
Yet still I feel immortal! O my love,
My breath of life, where art thou? High
above,

Dancing before the morning gates of heaven?

Or keeping watch among those starry

Was quite forgotten, save of us alone! And wherefore so ashamed? 'Tis but to atone

For endless pleasure, by some coward blushes:

Yet must I be a coward!-Honor rushes 790 Too palpable before me-the sad look

Thee thus, and weep for fondness I am pain 'd,

Endymion: woe! woe! is grief contain'd In the ver deeps of pleasure, my sole life?"

Hereat, with many sobs, her gentle strife Melted into a languor. He return'd Entranced vows and tears.

Ye who have yearn'd

With too much passion, will here stay and pity,

For the mere sake of truth; as 'tis a ditty 830 Not of these days, but long ago 'twas told By a cavern wind unto a forest old;1 And then the forest told it in a dream To a sleeping lake, whose cool and level gleam

A poet caught as he was journeying

shook

With awe of purity-no Cupid pinion

In reverence veil'd-my crystalline do

minion

hours,

Press me so sweetly. Now I swear at once
That I am wise, that Pallas is a dunce-

800 Perhaps her love like mine is but unknown

OI do think that I have been alone
In chastity: yes, Pallas has been sighing,
While every eve saw me my hair uptying
With fingers cool as aspen leaves. Sweet
love,

805 I was as vague as solitary dove,

Nor knew that nests were built. Now a soft kiss

Aye, by that kiss, I vow an endless bliss, An immortality of passion 's thine: Ere long I will exalt thee to the shine 810 Of heaven ambrosial; and we will shade Ourselves whole summers by a river glade; And I will tell thee stories of the sky, And breathe thee whispers of its min

strelsy.

My happy love will overwing all bounds! 815 O let me melt into thee; let the sounds

Of our close voices marry at their birth;
Let us entwine hoveringly-O dearth
Of human words! roughness of mortal

speech!

Lispings empyrean will I sometime teach 820 Thine honied tongue-lute-breathings, which I gasp

To have thee understand, now while I clasp

His weary limbs, bathing an hour's space,
And after, straight in that inspired place
He sang the story up into the air,
Giving it universal freedom. There
Has it been ever sounding for those ears
Whose tips are glowing hot. The legend
cheers

Yon sentinel stars; and he who listens to it
Must surely be self-doom'd or he will rue
it:

For quenchless burnings come upon the heart,

845 Made fiercer by a fear lest any part

850

855

860

Should be engulfed in the eddying wind. As much as here is penn'd doth always find A resting-place, thus much comes clear and plain;

Anon the strange voice is upon the waneAnd 'tis but echo'd from departing sound, That the fair visitant at last unwound Her gentle limbs, and left the youth asleep.

Thus the tradition of the gusty deep.

Now turn we to our former chroniclers.Endymion. awoke, that grief of hers Sweet paining on his ear: he sickly guess'd How lone he was once more, and sadly press'd

His empty arms together, hung his head, And most forlorn upon that widow'd bed Sat silently. Love's madness he had known: Often with more than tortured lion's groan Moanings had burst from him; but now that rage

Had pass'd away: no longer did he wage 1 Cf. the means by which Midas's secret concerning the ass's ears on his head became known. See Ovid's Metamorphoses, II, 17493.

A rough-voic'd war against the dooming stars.

865 No, he had felt too much for such harsh jars:

The lyre of his soul Æolian tun’d
Forgot all violence, and but commun'd
With melancholy thought: O he had
swoon'd

Drunken from pleasure's nipple; and his
love

870 Henceforth was dove-like.-Loth was he to

move

From the imprinted couch, and when he did,

'Twas with slow, languid paces, and face hid

In muffling hands. So temper'd, out he stray'd

Half seeing visions that might have dismay'd

905

910

875 Alecto's serpents; ravishments more keen 915 Than Hermes' pipe,1 when anxious he did lean

Över eclipsing eyes: and at the last
It was a sounding grotto, vaulted, vast,
O'erstudded with a thousand, thousand 920
pearls,

880 And crimson mouthed shells with stubborn

curls,

Of every shape and size, even to the bulk
In which whales arbor close, to brood and
sulk

Against an endless storm. Moreover too, Fish-semblances, of green and azure hue, 885 Ready to snort their streams. In this cool 925 wonder

Endymion sat down, and 'gan to ponder
On all his life: his youth, up to the day
When 'mid acclaim, and feasts, and gar-
lands gay,

He stept upon his shepherd throne: the
look

890 Of his white palace in wild forest nook,

And all the revels he had lorded there:
Each tender maiden whom he once thought.
fair,

With every friend and fellow-woodlander-
Pass'd like a dream before him. Then the

spur

895 Of the old bards to mighty deeds: his plans

"How long must I remain in jeopardy Of blank amazements that amaze no more? Now I have tasted her sweet soul to the

core

All other depths are shallow essences,
Once spiritual, are like muddy lees,
Meant but to fertilize my earthly root,
And make my branches lift a golden fruit
Into the bloom of heaven: other light,
Though it be quick and sharp enough to
blight

The Olympian eagle's vision, is dark,
Dark as the parentage of chaos. Hark!
My silent thoughts are echoing from these
shells;

Or they are but the ghosts, the dying swells
Of noises far away?-list!''Hereupon
He kept an anxious ear. The humming tone
Came louder, and behold, there as he lay,
On either side outgush 'd, with misty spray,
A copious spring; and both together dash'd
Swift, mad, fantastic round the rocks, and
lash'd

Among the conchs and shells of the lofty grot,

Leaving a trickling dew. At last they shot Down from the. ceiling's height, pouring a noise

As of some breathless racers whose hopes poise

Upon the last few steps, and with spent

force

Along the ground they took a winding

course.

Endymion follow 'd-for it seem'd that one Ever pursued, the other strove to shunFollow'd their languid mazes, till well

nigh

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