But with the passing of that hollow dream The other sister rose, and as she might, Arrayed herself alone in that still night, And so stole forth, and making no delay Came to the rock anigh the dawn of day; No warning there her sister's spirit gave, No doubt came nigh the fore-doomed soul to save, But with a fever burning in her blood, With glittering eyes and crimson cheeks she stood One moment on the brow, the while she cried, "Receive me, Love, chosen to be thy bride From all the million women of the world!" Then o'er the cliff her wicked limbs were hurled, Nor has the language of the earth a name For that surprise of terror and of shame.
Now, midst her wanderings, on a hot noontide, Psyche passed down a road, where, on each side The yellow cornfields lay, although as yet Unto the stalks no sickle had been set; The lark sung over them, the butterfly Flickered from ear to ear distractedly, The kestrel hung above, the weasel peered From out the wheat-stalks on her unafeard, Along the road the trembling poppies shed On the burnt grass their crumpled leaves and red; Most lonely was it, nothing Psyche knew Unto what land of all the world she drew; Aweary was she, faint and sick at heart, Bowed to the earth by thoughts of that sad part She needs must play: some blue flower from the corn That in her fingers erewhile she had borne, Now dropped from them, still clung unto her gown; Over the hard way hung her head adown Despairingly, but still her weary feet Moved on half conscious, her lost love to meet. So going, at the last she raised her eyes, And saw a grassy mound before her rise Over the yellow plain, and thereon was A marble fane with doors of burnished brass, That 'twixt the pillars set about it burned; So thitherward from off the road she turned, And soon she heard a rippling water sound, And reached a stream that girt the hill around, Whose green waves wooed her body lovingly; So looking round, and seeing no soul anigh, Unclad, she crossed the shallows, and there laid Her dusty raiment in the alder-shade, And slipped adown into the shaded pool, And with the pleasure of the water cool Soothed her tired limbs awhile, then with a sigh Came forth, and clad her body hastily, And up the hill made for the little fane. But when its threshold now her feet did gain, She, looking through the pillars of the shrine, Beheld therein a golden image shine Of golden Ceres; then she passed the door, And with bowed head she stood awhile before The smiling image, striving for some word That did not name her lover and her lord, Until midst rising tears at last she prayed: "O kind one, if while yet I was a maid I ever did thee pleasure, on this day Be kind to me, poor wanderer on the way, Who strive my love upon the earth to meet! Then let me rest my weary, doubtful feet Within thy quiet house a little while, And on my rest if thou wouldst please to smile, And send me news of my own love and lord, It would not cost thee, lady, many a word." But straight from out the shrine a sweet voice came, "O Psyche, though of me thou hast no blame, And though indeed thou sparedst not to give What my soul loved, while happy thou didst live, Yet little can I give now unto thee, Since thou art rebel, slave, and enemy Unto the love-inspiring Queen; this grace Thou hast alone of me, to leave this place Free as thou camest, though the lovely one Seeks for the sorceress who entrapped her son In every land, and has small joy in aught, Until before her presence thou art brought." Then Psyche, trembling at the words she spake, Durst answer nought, nor for that counsel's sake Could other offerings leave except her tears, As now, tormented by the new-born fears The words divine had raised in her, she passed The brazen threshold once again, and cast A dreary hopeless look across the plain, Whose golden beauty now seemed nought and vain Unto her aching heart; then down the hill She went, and crossed the shallows of the rill, And wearily she went upon her way, Nor any homestead passed upon that day, Nor any hamlet, and at night lay down Within a wood, far off from any town.