Page:The complete poetical works and letters of John Keats, 1899.djvu/193

Rh May pierce them on the sudden with the thorn

Of painful blindness; leaving thee forlorn,

In trembling dotage to the feeblest fright

Of conscience, for their long-offended might,

For all thine impious proud-heart sophistries,

Unlawful magic, and enticing lies.

Corinthians! look upon that gray-beard wretch!

Mark how, possess'd, his lashless eyelids stretch

Around his demon eyes! Corinthians, see!

My sweet bride withers at their potency.'

'Fool!' said the sophist, in an under-tone

Gruff with contempt; which a death-nighing moan

From Lycius answer'd, as heart-struck and lost,

He sank supine beside the aching ghost.

'Fool! Fool!' repeated he, while his eyes still

Relented not, nor moved; 'from every ill

Of life have I preserved thee to this day,

And shall I see thee made a serpent's prey?'

Then Lamia breathed death breath; the sophist's eye,

Like a sharp spear, went through her utterly,

Keen, cruel, perceant, stinging: she, as well

As her weak hand could any meaning tell,

Motion'd him to be silent; vainly so,

He look'd and look'd again a level—No!

'A serpent!' echoed he; no sooner said,

Than with a frightful scream she vanished:

And Lycius' arms were empty of delight,

As were his limbs of life, from that same night.

On the high couch he lay!—his friends came round—

Supported him—no pulse or breath they found,

And, in its marriage robe, the heavy body wound.