Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/150



Of Cynthia he heard not, though rough brier Nor muffling thicket interposed to dull The vesper hymn, far swollen, soft and full, Through the dark pillars of those sylvan aisles. He saw not the two maidens, nor their smiles, Wan as primroses gather'd at midnight By chilly-finger'd spring. Unhappy wight! "Endymion!" said Peona, "we are here! What wouldst thou ere we all are laid on bier?" Then he embraced her, and his lady's hand Press'd, saying: "Sister, I would have command, If it were heaven's will, on our sad fate." At which that dark-eyed stranger stood elate And said, in a new voice, but sweet as love, To Endymion's amaze: "By Cupid's dove, And so thou shalt! and by the lily truth Of my own breast thou shalt, beloved youth!" And as she spake, into her face there came Light, as reflected from a silver flame: Her long black hair swell'd ampler, in display Full golden; in her eyes a brighter day Dawn'd blue, and full of love. Aye, he beheld Phœbe, his passion! joyous she upheld Her lucid bow, continuing thus: "Drear, drear Has óur delaying been; but foolish fear Withheld me first; and then decrees of fate; And then 'twas fit that from this mortal state Thou shouldst, my love, by some unlook'd-for change Be spiritualized. Peona, we shall range These forests, and to thee they safe shall be As was thy cradle; hither shalt thou flee To meet us many a time." Next Cynthia bright