Alive with sparkles—never, I aver,
Siuce Ariadne was a vintager,
So cool a purple: taste these juicy pears,
Sent me by sad Vertumnus, when his fears
were high about Pomona : here is cream,
Deepening to richness from a snowy gleam;
Sweeter than that nurse Amalthea skimm'd
For the boy Jupiter: and here, undimm'd
By any touch, a bunch of blooming plums
Ready to melt between an infant's gums:
And here is manna pick d from Syrian trees,
In starlight, by the three Hesperides.
Feast on, and meanwhile I will let thee know
Of all these things around us.” He did so,
Still brooding o'er the cadence of his lyre;
And thus: ... I need not any hearing tire
By telling how the sea-born goddess pined
For a mortal youth, and how she strove to bind
Him all in all unto her doting self.
who would not be so prison'd? but, fond elf,
He was content to let her amorous plea
Faint through his careless arms, content to see
An unseized heaven dying at his feet;
Content, 0 fool! to make a cold retreat,
When on the pleasant grass such love, lovelorn,
Law sorrowing; when every tear was born
of diverse passion; when her lips and eyes
Were closed in sullen moisture, and quick sighs
Came vex'd and pettish through her nostrils small.
Hush" no exclaim—yet, justly mightst thou call
Curses upon his head.—l was half glad,
But my poor mistress went distract and mad,
when the boar tusk d him : so away she flew
To Jove's high throne, and by her plainings drew
Immortal tear-drops down the thunderer's beard;
Whereon, it was decreed he should be rear'd
Each summer-time to life. Lo! this is he,
That same Adonis, safe in the privacy
Of this still region all his winter-sleep.
Ay, sleep; for when our love-sick queen did weep
Over his waned corse, the tremulous shower
Heal’d up the wound, and, with a balmy power,
Medicined death to a lengthen'd drowsiness:
The which she fills with visions, and doth dress
In all this quiet luxury; and hath set
I's young immortals, without any let,
To watch his slumber through. T is well nigh pass'd,
Even to a moment's filling up, and fast
She scuds with summer breezes, to pant through
The first long kiss, warm firstling, to renew
Embower'd sports in Cytherea's isle.
Look, how those winged listeners all this while
Stand anxious : see" behold '--This clamant word
broke through the careful silence; for they heard
A rustling noise of leaves, and out there flutterd
Pigeons and doves: Adonis something mutter'd,
The while one hand, that erst upon his thigh
Lay dormant, moved convulsed and gradually
Up to his forehead. Then there was a hum
of sudden voices, echoing, a Come! come!
Arise! awake! Clear summer has forth walk'd
into the clover-sward, and she has talk'd
Full soothingly to every nested finch :
Rise, Cupids' or we'll give the blue-bell pinch
To your dimpled arms. Once more sweet life begin".
At this, from every side they hurried in,

Rubbing their sleepy eyes with lazy wrists,
And doubling over head their little fists
In backward yawns. But all were soon alive:
For as delicious wine doth, sparkling, dive
In nectar'd clouds and curls through water fair,
So from the arbour roof down swell'd an air
Odorous and enlivening; making all
To laugh, and play, and sing, and loudly call
For their sweet queen: when lo! the wreathed green
Disparted, and far upward could be seen
Blue heaven, and a silver car, air-borne,
Whose silent wheels, fresh wet from clouds of morn,
Spun off a drizzling dew,-which falling chill
On soft Adonis' shoulders, made him still
Nestle and turn uneasily about.
Soon were the white doves plain, with necks stretch'd out,
And silken traces lighten’d in descent;
And soon, returning from love's banishment,
Queen Venus leaning downward open-arm'd :
Her shadow fell upon his breast, and charm'd
A tumult to his heart, and a new life
Into his eyes. All, miserable strife,
But for her comforting! unhappy sight,
But meeting her blue orbs! Who, who can write
Of these first minutes? The unchariest muse
To embracements warm as theirs makes coy excuse.

O it has ruffled every spirit there, Saving love's self, who stands superb to share The general gladness: awfully he stands; A sovereign quell is in his waving hands; No sight can bear the lightning of his bow; His quiver is mysterious, none can know What themselves think of it; from forth his eyes There darts strange light of varied hues and dyes A scow! is sometimes on his brow, but who Look full upon it feel anon the blue of his fair eyes run liquid through their souls. Endymion feels it, and no more controls The burning praver within him; so, bent low, He had begun a plaining of his woe. But Venus, bending forward, said: . My child, Favour this gentle youth; his days are wild With love—he-but alas ! too well I see 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 rue The endless sleep of this new-born Adon', This stranger ay 1 pitted. For upon A dreary morning once I fled away Into the breery clouds, to weep and pray For this my love: for vexing Mars had teamed Me even to tears: thence, when a little eased, Down-looking, vacant, through a harv 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 hus sullen eyes: I saw him throw Himself on wither'd leaves, even as though Death had come sudden, for no jot he moved, Yet mutter'd wildly. I could hear he loved Some fair immortal, and that his embrace Had toned her through the night. There is no trace of thus in heaven: I have markd each cheek, And find it is the vainest thing to seek;

And that of all things "t is kept secretest.
Endymion! one day thou wilt be blest:
So still obey the guiding hand that fends
Thee safely through these wonders for sweet ends.
'T is a concealment needful in extreme;
And if I guess'd not so, the sunny beam
Thou shouldst mount up to with me. Now adieu!
Here must we leave thee.”—At these words up flew
The impatient doves, up rose the floating car,
Up went the hum celestial. High afar
The Latmian saw them minish into nought;
And, when all were clear vanish'd, still he caught
A vivid lightning from that dreadful bow.
When all was darken'd, with Etnean throe
The earth closed—gave a solitary moan–
And left him once again in twilight lone.

He did not rave, he did not stare aghast,

For all those visions were o'ergone, and past,
And he in loneliness: he felt assured
Of happy times, when all he had endured
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 loop-holes, and thence
Stretching across a void, then guiding o'er
Enormous chasms, where, all foam and roar,
Streams subterranean teaze their granite beds;
Then heighten’d just above the silvery heads
Of a thousand fountains, so that he could dash
The waters with his spear; but at the splash,
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,
Moving about as in a gentle wind,
Which, in a wink, to watery gauze refined,
Pour'd into shapes of curtain'd canopies,
Spangled, and rich with liquid broideries
Of towers, peacocks, swans, and naiads fair.
-Swifter than lightning went these wonders rare;
And then the water, into stubborn streams
Collecting, mimick'd the wrought oaken beams,
Pillars, and frieze, and high fantastic roof,
Of those dusk places in times far aloof
Cathedrals call’d. He bade a loth farewell
To these founts Protean, passing gulf, and dell.
And torrent, and ten thousand jutting shapes,
Half seen through deepest gloom, and grisly gapes,
Blackening on every side, and overhead
A vaulted dome like Heaven's, far bespread
With starlight gems: aye, all so huge and strange, .
The solitary felt a hurried change
Working within him into something dreary,
Wex'd like a morning eagle, lost, and weary.

And purblind amid foggy midnight wolds.
But he revives at once : for who beholds
New sudden things, nor casts his mental slough:
Forth from a rugged arch, in the dusk below,
Came mother Cybele alone—alone—
In sombre chariot; dark foldings thrown
About her majesty, and front death-pale,
With turrets crown'd. Four maned lions hale
The sluggish wheels; solemn their toothed maws.
Their surly eyes brow-hidden, heavy paws
Uplifted drowsily, and nervy tails
Cowering their tawny brushes. Silent sails
This shadowy queen athwart, and faints away
In another gloomy arch.

Wherefore delay,

Young traveller, in such a mournful place’
Art thou wayworn, or canst not further trace
The diamond path And does it indeed end
Abrupt in middle air? Yet earthward beod
Thy forehead, and to Jupiter cloud-borne
Call ardently! He was indeed wayworn:
t Abrupt, in middle air. his way was lost;

To cloud-borne Jove he bowed, and there cros
o Towards him a large eagle, 't wixt whose wings

without one impious word, himself he flings,

Committed to the darkness and the gloom: | Down, down, uncertain to what pleasant doom. i Swift as a fathoming plummet down be fell Through unknown things; till exhaled “Pho. | And rose, with spicy fannings interbreathed. | Came swelling forth where little caves were * 'So thick with leaves and mosses, that the *** Large honey-combs of green, and freshly teem'd 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 go" 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 sphere: A dewy luxury was in his eyes; The little flowers felt his pleasant sigh- o And stirr'd them faintly. Verdant cave and ce. He wander'd through, oft wondering at such Of sudden exaltation : but, - Alas!” Said he, . will all this gush of feeling poo Away in solitude! And must they wano 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 thout to"" Dancing before the morning gates of heaven Or keeping watch among those starry seven. Old Atlas' children: Art a unaid of the waters. 'one of shell-winding Triton's bright-haird daug or art, impossible: a nymph of Diano. Weaving a coronal of tender scions For very idleness” where'er thou art. Methinks it now is at my will to start into thine arms; to scare Aurora's tra". And snatch the from the morning: “”

To scud like a wild bird, and take thee off
From thy sea-foamy cradle; or to doff
Thy shepherd vest, and woo thee mid fresh leaves.
No, no, too eagerly my soul deceives
Its powerless self: I know this cannot be.
0 let me then by some sweet dreaming flee
To her entrancements: hither sleep awhile!
Hither most gentle sleep' and soothing foil
For some few hours the coming solitude.”

Thus spake he, and that moment felt endued With power to dream deliciously; so wound Through a dim passage, searching till he found The smoothest mossy bed and deepest, where He threw himself, and just into the air Stretching his indolent arms, he took, O bliss' A naked waist : . Fair Cupid, whence is this?" A well-known voice sigh'd, . Sweetest, here am I'At which soft ravishment, with doating cry They trembled to each other.—llelicon' O fountain'd hill Old Homer's Helicon 1 That thou wouldst spout a little streamlet o'er These sorry pages; then the verse would soar And sing above this gentle pair, like lark Over his nested young but all is dark Around thine aged top, and thy clear fount Exhales in mists to heaven. Aye, the count Of mighty Poets is made up; the scroll is folded by the Muses; the bright roll Is in Apollo's hand : our dazed eyes Have seen a new tinge in the western skies: The world has done its duty. Yet, oh yet, Although the sun of poesy is set, These lovers did embrace, and we must weep That there is no old power left to steep A quill immortal in their joyous tears. Long time in silence did their anxious fears Question that thus it was; long time they lay Fondling and kissing every doubt away; Long time ere soft caressing sobs began To mellow into words, and then there ran Two bubbling springs of talk from their sweet lips. - 0 known Unknown from whom my being sips such darling essence, wherefore may I not Be ever in these arms in this sweet spot pillow my chin for ever ever press These toying hands and kiss their smooth excess'

why not for ever and for ever feel
That breath about my eves? Ah, thou will steal
Away from me again, indeed, indeed–
Thou wilt be gone away, and wilt not heed
My lonely madness. Speak, my kindest fair!
1s—is it to be so." No! Who will dare
To pluck thee from me ! And, of thine own will,
Full well I feel thou wouldst not leave me. Still
let me entwine thee surer, surer—now
How can we part: Elvsun' who art thou?
who, that thou canst not be for ever here,
Or lift me with thee to some starry sphere
Enchantress' tell me b v this soft embrace,
By the most soft complexion of thy face,
Those lips, 0 slippery blisses' twinkling eyes,
And by these tenderest, milky sovereignties—
These tenderest, and by the nectar-wine,
The passion.——— o loved Ida the divine'

Endymion' dearest! Ah, unhappy me!
His soul will 'scape us–0 felicity'
How he does love me! His poor temples heat
To the very tune of love—how sweet, sweet, sweet!
Revive, dear vouth, or I shall faint and die;
Revive, or these soft hours will hurry by
In tranced dulness; speak, and let that spell
Affright this lethargy' I cannot quell
Its heavy pressure, and will press at least
My lips to thine, that they may richly feast
Until we taste the life of love again.
What! dost thou move dost kiss” obliss! O pain!
I love thee, youth, more than I can conceive;
And so long absence from thee doth bereave
My soul of any rest: yet must I hence:
Yet, can I not to starry eminence
Uplift thee; nor for very shame can own
Myself to thee. Ah, dearest! do not groan,
Or thou wilt force me from this secrecy,
And I must blush in heaven. O that I
Had done it already! that the dreadful smiles
At my lost brightness, my impassion'd wiles,
Had waned from Olympus' solemn height,
And from all serious Gods; that our delight
Was quite forgotten, save of us alone!
And wherefore so ashamed T is but to atone
For endless pleasure, by some coward blushes:
Yet must 1 be a coward . Horror rushes
Too palpable before me—the sad look
Of Jove—Minerva's start—no bosom shook
with awe of purity—no Cnpid pinion
In reverence veil’d—my crystaline dominion
Half lost, and all old hymns made nullity!
But what is this to love? Oh! I could fly
With thee into the ken of heavenly powers,
So thou wouldst thus, for many sequent hours,
Press me so sweetly. Now I swear at once
That I am wise, that Pallas is a dunce—
Perhaps her love like mine is but unknown-
(M, " I 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!
I was as vague as solitary dove,
Nor knew that nests were built. Now a soft kiss-
Aye, by that kiss, 1 vow an endless bliss,
An immortality of passion's thine:
Ere long I will exalt thee to the shine
of leaven 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 minstrelsy.
My happy love will overwing all bounds!
0 let me melt into thee! let the sounds
of our close voices marry at their birth;
Let us entwine hoveringiv'—0 dearth
of human words! roughness of nortal speech'
Lieping, empvrean will I sometime teach
thine honey'd tongue—lute-breathings, which I gasp
To have thee understand, now while 1 clasp
Thee thus, and weep for fondness-I am pain'd,
Endymion: woe! woe" is grief contain'd
In the very 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 "t is a ditty Not of these days, but long ago 't was told By a cavern wind unto a forest old; 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 To Phoebus' shrine; and in it he did fling 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 centinel stars; and he who listens to it Must surely be self-doomed or he will rue it: For quenchless burnings come upon the heart, Made fiercer by a fear lest any part Should be engulfed in the eddving wind. As much as here is penn'd doth always find A resting-place, thus much comes clear and plain; An on the strange voice is upon the wane— And t is 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 : be 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 A rough-voiced war against the dooming stars. No, he had felt too much for such harsh jars: The lyre of his soul Eolian tuned Forgot all violence, and but communed With melancholy thought: 0 he had swoon'd Drunken from pleasure's nipple! and his love Henceforth was dove-like.—Loth was he to move From the imprinted couch, and when he did, "T was 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 Alecto's serpents; ravishments more keen Than Hermes' pipe, when anxious he did lean Over eclipsing eyes: and at the last It was a sounding grotto, vaulted, vast, O'er-studded with a thousand, thousand pearls, And crimson-mouthed shells with stubborn curls, Of every shape and size, even to the bulk In which whales arbour close, to brood and sulk Against an endless storm. Moreover too, Fish-semblances, of green and azure hue, Ready to snort their streams. In this cool wonder Endymion sat down, and 'gan to ponder on all his life: his youth, up to the day When mid acclaim, and feasts, and garlands gay, He stept upon his shepherd throne: the look 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
Of the old bards to mighty deeds: his plans
To nurse the golden age mong shepherd clans:
That wondrous night: the great Pan-festival.
His sister's sorrow; and his wanderings all,
Until into the earth's deep maw he rush'd :
Then all its buried magic, ull it flush'd
High with excessive love. - And now... thought be.
• 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 gros.
Leaving a trickling dew. At last they shot
Down from the ceiling's height, pouring a noise
As of some breathless racers whose hopes poize
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 shun–
Follow'd their languid mazes, till well nigh
He had left thinking of the mystery.—
And was now rapt in tender hoverings
Over the vanish'd bliss. Ah! what is it sings
His dream away? What melodies are these?
They sound as through the whispering of trees.
Not native in such barren vaults. Give ear!

... O Arethusa, peerless nymph! why fear | Such tenderness as mine? Great Dian, why, Why didst thou hear her prayer? O that i Were rippling round her dainty fairness now, Circling about her waist, and striving how To entice her to a dive! then stealing in Between her luscious lips and evelids thin. O that her shining hair was in the sun, And I distilling from it thence to run In amorous rillets down her shrinking form: To linger on her lily shoulders, warm Between her kissing breasts, and every charm Touch raptured!—See how painfully I flow : Fair maid, be pitiful to my great woe. o Stay, stay thy weary course, and let me lead. A happy wooer, to the flowery mead Where all that beauty snared me.”—. Cruel god, Desist! or my offended mistress nod Will stagnate all thy fountains:—teaze me not