Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/67



That when through heavy hours I used to rue The endless sleep of this new-born Adon', This stranger aye I pitied. For upon A dreary morning once I fled away Into the breezy clouds, to weep and pray For this my love: for vexing Mars had teased Me even to tears: thence, when a little eased, Down-looking, vacant, through a hazy 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 his 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 zoned her though the night. There is no trace Of this in heaven : I have mark'd each cheek, And find it is the vaniest thing to seek; And that of all things 'tis 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. 'Tis 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 vanished, still he caught A vivid lightning from that dreadful bow