Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/167



He answer'd, bending to her open eyes, Where he was mirror'd small in paradise,— "My silver planet, both of eve and morn! Why will you plead yourself so sad forlorn, While I am striving how to fill my heart With deeper crimson, and a double smart? How to entangle, trammel up and snare Your soul in mine, and labyrinth you there, Like the hid scent in an unbudded rose? Ay, a sweet kiss—you see your mighty woes. My thoughts! shall I unveil them? Listen then! What mortal hath a prize, that other men May be confounded and abash'd withal, But lets it sometimes pace abroad majestical, And triumph, as in thee I should rejoice Amid the hoarse alarm of Corinth's voice Let my foes choke, and my friends shout afar, While through the thronged streets your bridal car Wheels round its dazzling spokes"—The lady's cheek Trembled; she nothing said, but, pale and meek, Arose and knelt before him, wept a rain Of sorrows at his words; at last with pain Beseeching him, the while his hand she wrung, To change his purpose. He thereat was stung Perverse, with stronger fancy to reclaim Her wild and timid nature to his aim; Besides, for all his love, in self despite, Against his better self, he took delight Luxurious in her sorrows, soft and new. His passion, cruel grown, took on a hue Fierce and sanguineous as 'twas possible