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The Lion's mane's on end: the Bear how fierce! The Centaur's arrow ready seems to pierce Some enemy: far forth his bow is bent Into the blue of heaven. He'll be shent,
 * Pale-unrelentor,

When he shall hear the wedding lutes a playing.— Andromeda! sweet woman! why delaying So timidly among the stars: come hither! Join this bright throng, and nimbly follow whither
 * They all are going.

Danae's Son, before Jove newly bow'd, Has wept for thee, calling to Jove aloud. Thee, gentle lady, did he disenthral: Ye shall forever live and love, for all
 * Thy tears are flowing.—

By Daphne's fright, behold Apollo!"—


 * More

Endymion heard not: down his steed him bore, Prone to the green head of a misty hill.
 * His first touch of the earth went nigh to kill.

"Alas!" said he, "were I but always borne Through dangerous winds, had but my footsteps worn A path in hell, forever would I bless Horrors which nourish an uneasiness For my own sullen conquering; to him Who lives beyond earth's boundary, grief is dim, Sorrow is but a shadow: now I see The grass; I feel the solid ground—Ah, me! It is thy voice—divinest! Where?—who? who