December

1

A SINGLE lamp there stood beside the heap,
And shed thereon its mocking golden light;
Such as might tempt the weary eye to sleep
Rather than prick the nerve of tasked sight.
Yet Psyche, not to fail for lack of zeal,
With good will sat her down to her ordeal,
Sorting the larger seeds as best she might.

2

When lo! upon the wall, a shadow past
Of doubtful shape, across the chamber dim
Moving with speed: and seeing nought that cast
The shade, she bent her down the flame to trim;
And there the beast itself, a little ant,
Climb'd up in compass of the lustre scant,
Upon the bowl of oil ran round the rim.

3

Smiling to see the creature of her fear
So dwarf'd by truth, she watcht him where he crept,
For mere distraction telling in his ear
What straits she then was in, and telling wept.
Whereat he stood and trim'd his horns; but ere
Her tale was done resumed his manner scare,
Ran down, and on his way in darkness kept.

4

But she intent drew forth with dextrous hand
The larger seeds, or push'd the smaller back,
Or light from heavy with her breathing fan'd.
When suddenly she saw the floor grow black,
And troops of ants, flowing in noiseless train,
Moved to the hill of seeds, as o'er a plain
Armies approach a city for attack;

5

And gathering on the grain, began to strive
With grappling horns: and each from out the heap
His burden drew, and all their motion live
Struggled and slid upon the surface steep.
And Psyche wonder'd, watching them, to find
The creatures separated kind from kind:
Till dizzied with the sight she fell asleep.

6

And when she woke 'twas with the morning sound
Of Aphrodite's anger at the door,
Whom high amaze stay'd backward, as she found
Her foe asleep with all her trouble o'er:
And round the room beheld, in order due,
The piles arranged distinct and sorted true,
Grain with grain, seed with seed, and spore with spore.

7

She fiercely cried. " Thou shalt not thus escape;
For to this marvel dar'st thou not pretend.
There is but one that coud this order shape,
Demeter, — but I knew her not thy friend.
Therefore another trial will I set,
In which she cannot aid thee nor abet,
But thou thyself must bring it fair to end."

8

Thereon she sped her to the bounds of Thrace,
And set her by a river deep and wide,
And said " To east beyond this stream, a race
Of golden-fleeced sheep at pasture bide.
Go seek them out; and this thy task, to pull
But one lock for me of their precious wool,
And give it in my hands at eventide:

9

" This do and thou shalt have thy heart's desire."
Which said, she fled and left her by the stream:
And Psyche then, with courage still entire
Had plunged therein; but now of great esteem
Her life she rated, while it lent a spell
Wherein she yet might hope to quit her well,
And in one winning all her woes redeem.

10

There as she stood in doubt, a fluting voice
Rose from the flood, " Psyche, be not afraid
To hear a reed give tongue, for 'twas of choice
That I from mortal flesh a plant was made.
My name is Syrinx; once from mighty Pan
Into the drowning river as I ran,
A fearful prayer my steps for ever stay'd.

11

" But by that change in many climes I live;
And Pan, my lover, who to me alone
Is true and does me honour, I forgive —
Nor if I speak in sorrow is't my own:
Rather for thee my voice I now uplift
To warn thee plunge not in the river swift,
Nor seek the golden sheep to men unknown.

12

" If thou should cross the stream, which may not be
Thou coudst not climb upon the hanging rocks,
Nor ever, as the goddess bade thee, see
The pasture of the yellow-fleeced flocks:
Or if thou coud, their herded horns would gore
And slay thee on the crags, or thrust thee o'er
Ere thou coudst rob them of their golden locks.

13

" The goddess means thy death. But I can show
How thy obedience yet may thwart her will.
At noon the golden flocks descend below,
Leaving the scented herbage of the hill,
And where the shelving banks to shallows fall,
Drink at the rippling water one and all,
Nor back return till they have drawn their fill.

14

" I will command a thornbush, that it stoop
Over some ram that steppeth by in peace,
And him in all its prickles firmly coop,
Making thee seizure of his golden fleece;
So without peril of his angry horns
Shalt thou be quit: for he upon the thorns
Must leave his ransom ere he win release.

15

Then Psyche thankt her for her kind befriending,
And hid among the rushes looking east;
And when noon came she saw the flock descending
Out of the hills; and lo! one golden beast
Caught in a thornbush; and the mighty brute
Struggl'd and tore it from its twisted root
Into the stream, or e'er he was releas't.

16

And when they water'd were and gone, the breeze
Floated the freighted thorn where Psyche lay:
Whence she unhook'd the golden wool at ease,
And back to heaven for passage swift gan pray.
And Hermes, who was sent to be her guide
Ifso she lived, came down at eventide,
And bore her thither ere the close of day.

17

But when the goddess saw the locks of gold
Held to her hands, her heart with wrath o'erran:
" Most desperate thou, and by abetting bold,
That dost outwit me, prove thee as I can.
Yet this work is not thine: there is but one
Of all the gods who coud the thing have done.
Hast thou a friend too in the lusty Pan?

18

" I'll give thee trial where he cannot aid."
Which said, she led her to a torrid land,
Level and black, but not with flood or shade,
For nothing coud the mighty heat withstand,
Which aye from morn till eve the naked sun
Pour'd on that plain, where never foot had run,
Nor any herb sprung on its molten sand.

19

Far off a gloomy mountain rose alone:
And Aphrodite, thither pointing, said
" There lies thy task. Out of the topmost stone
Of yonder hill upwells a fountain head.
Take thou this goblet; brimming must thou bring
Its cup with water from that sacred spring,
If ever to my son thou wouldst be wed."

20

Saying, she gave into her hands a bowl
Cut of one crystal, open, broad and fair;
And bade her at all hazard keep it whole,
For heaven held nought beside so fine or rare.
Then was she gone; and Psyche on the plain
Now doubted if she ever should regain
The love of Eros, strove she howsoe'er.

21

Yet as a helmsman, at the word to tack,
Swiftly without a thought puts down his helm,
So Psyche turn'd to tread that desert black,
Since was no fear that coud her heart o'erwhelm;
Nor knew she that she went the fount to seek
Of cold Cocytus, springing to the peak,
Secretly from his source in Pluto's realm.

22

All night and day she journey'd, and at last
Come to the rock gazed up in vain around:
Nothing she saw but precipices vast
O'er ruined scarps, with rugged ridges crown'd:
And creeping to a cleft to rest in shade,
Or e'er the desperate venture she assay'd,
She fell asleep upon the stony ground.

23

A dream came to her, thus: she stood alone
Within her palace in the high ravine;
Where nought but she was changed, but she to stone.
Worshippers throng'd the court, and still were seen
Folk flying from the peak, who, ever more
Flying and flying, lighted on the floor,
Hail ! cried they, wife of Eros, adored queen!

24

A hurtling of the battl'd air disturb'd
Her sunken sense, and waked her eyes to meet
The kingly bird of Zeus, himself that curb'd
His swooping course, alighting at her feet;
With motion gentle, his far-darting eye
In kindness dim'd upon her, he drew nigh,
And thus in words unveil'd her foe's deceit:

25

" In vain, poor Psyche, hast thou hither striven
Across the fiery plain toiling so well;
Cruelly to destruction art thou driven
By her, whose hate thou canst not quit nor quell.
No mortal foot may scale this horrid mount,
And those black waters of its topmost fount
Are guarded by the horned snakes of hell.

26

" Its little rill is an upleaping jet
Of cold Cocytus, which for ever licks
Earth's base, and when with Acheron 'tis met,
Its waters with that other cannot mix,
Which holds the elemental air dissolved;
But with it in its ceaseless course revolved
Issues unmingl'd in the lake of Styx.

27

" The souls of murderers, in guise of fish,
Scream as they swim therein and wail for cold,
Their times of woe determined by the wish
Of them they murder'd on the earth of old:
Whom each five years they see, whene'er they make
Their passage to the Acherusian lake,
And there release may win from pains condoled.

28

" For if the pitying ear of them they slew
Be haply pierced by their voices spare,
Then are they freed from pain; as are some few;
But, for the most, again they forward fare
To Tartarus obscene, and outcast thence
Are hurried back into the cold intense,
And with new company their torments share.

29

" Its biting lymph may not be touch'd of man
Or god, unless the Fates have so ordain'd;
Nor coud I in thy favour break the ban,
Nor pass the dragons that thereby are chain'd,
Didst thou not bear the sacred cup of Zeus;
Which, for thy peril lent, shall turn to use,
And truly do the service which it feign'd."

30

Thus as he spake, his talons made he ring
Around the crystal bowl, and soaring high
Descended as from heaven upon the spring:
Nor dared the horned snakes of hell deny
The minister of Zeus, that bore his cup,
To fill it with their trusted water up,
Thence to the King of heaven therewith to fly.

31

But he to Psyche bent his gracious speed,
And bidding her to mount his feather'd back
Bore her aloft as once young Ganymede;
Nor ever made his steady flight to slack,
Ere that he set her down beside her goal,
And gave into her hands the crystal bowl
Unspill'd, o'erbrimming with the water black.
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