Page:Poems by William Wordsworth (1815) Volume 1.djvu/286

226 Mild Hermes spake—and touched her with his wand

That calms all fear, "Such grace hath crowned thy prayer,

Laodamia, that at Jove's command

Thy Husband walks the paths of upper air:

He comes to tarry with thee three hours' space;

Accept the gift, behold him face to face."

Forth sprang the impassion'd Queen her Lord to clasp;

Again that consummation she essayed;

But unsubstantial Form eludes her grasp

As often as that eager grasp was made.

The Phantom parts—but parts to re-unite,

And re-assume his place before her sight.

"Protesilaus, lo! thy guide is gone!

Confirm, I pray, the Vision with thy voice:

This is our Palace,—yonder is thy throne;

Speak, and the floor thou tread'st on will rejoice.

Not to appal me have the Gods bestowed

This precious boon,—and blest a sad Abode."

"Great Jove, Laodamia, doth not leave

His gifts imperfect:—Spectre though I be,

I am not sent to scare thee or deceive;

But in reward of thy fidelity.

And something also did my worth obtain;

For fearless virtue bringeth boundless gain.