VI

Thus Reason sighed. In vain preferred
Her prayer, she sadly turned, and joined
Discarded Faith, that, listening, heard
The imploring accents from behind.
Distrust was in her heart awake
To sleep no more, while, stealing near,
Pale jealousy, the green-eyed snake,
His poison whispered in her ear.

VII

She grasped the light beside her shining
Through darkness, and on tiptoe crept,
Where, on his rosy couch reclining,
The god, awaiting her, had slept.
His lips were parted, and his breath
The roses perfumed that o'erhung
Tresses that clustering spread beneath,
Like tendrils round his shoulders flung.

VIII

And while she gazed, wrapt, softened, awed,
The oil, unheeded, poured away,
Till, scathing, fell upon the god
The fiery liquid where he lay!
Forth bounding from the bed defiled,
In horror fixed, on her he gazed,
With eyes no longer love that smiled,
But withering lightnings from them blazed.

IX

" Ah, frantic Psyche! — thou hast failed
In faith, in truth; thy spell is o'er;
Thy evil spirit has prevailed,
I meet thee upon earth no more!"
She stood; she heard the thunder's knell;
The storm had passed, the dart had flown,
And, flower-like, on the ground she fell,
Pale, lightning-stricken, and alone.

X

But still she lived; her eyes were cast
Upwards, where rose the god in air,
A statue that from life had passed,
And frozen into marble there.
The immortal Soul from her had fled;
The breath that warmed, the life entwined
Even with her very heart, had sped,
And left its mortal form behind.