"For what can life to thy lost Psyche give, "What can it offer but a gloomy void!

Why thus abandoned should I wish to live? "To mourn the pleasure which I once enjoyed, "The bliss my own rash folly hath destroyed; "Of all my soul most prized, or held most dear, "Nought but the sad remembrance doth abide, "And late repentance of my impious fear; "Remorse and vaio regret what living soul can bear!

"Oh, art thou then indeed for ever gone! "And art thou heedless of thy Psyche's woe! "From these fond arms for ever art thou flown, "And unregarded must my sorrows flow! "Ah! why too happy did I ever know "The rapturous charms thy tenderness inspires? "Ah! why did thy affections stoop so low? "Why kindle in a mortal breast such fires, "Or with celestial love inflame such rash desires?

"Abandoned thus for ever by thy love, "No greater punishment I now can bear, "From fate no farther malice can I prove; "Not all the horrors of this desert drear, "Nor death itself can now excite a fear; "The peopled earth a solitude as vast "To this despairing heart would now appear; "Here then, my transient joys for ever past, "Let thine expiring bride thy pardon gain at last!"

66

Now prostrate on the bare unfriendly ground,
She waits her doom in silent agony;
When lo! the well-known soft celestial sound
She hears once more with breathless ecstasy,
"Oh! yet too dearly loved? Lost Psyche! Why
"With cruel fate wouldst thou unite thy power,
"And force me thus thine arms adored to fly?
"Yet cheer thy drooping soul, some happier hour
Thy banished steps may lead back to thy lover's bower.

Though angry Venus we no more can shun, "Appease that anger, and I yet am thine! "Lo! where her temple glitters to the sun; "With humble penitence approach her shrine, "Perhaps to pity she may yet incline;

"But should her cruel wrath these hopes deceive, "And thou, alas! must never more be mine, "Yet shall thy lover ne'er his Psyche leave, "But, if the fates allow, unseen thy woes relieve.'

Stronger

1811.

"Stronger than I, they now forbid my stay;
"Psyche beloved, adieu!" Scarce can she hear
The last faint words, which gently melt away;
And now more faint the dying sounds appear,
Borne to a distance from her longing ear;
Yet still attentively she stands unmov'd,

To catch those accents which her soul could cheer,
That soothing voice, which had so sweetly proved
That still his tender heart offending Psyche loved!

And now the joyous sun had cleared the sky,
The mist dispelled revealed the splendid fane;
A palmy grove majestically high

Screens the fair building from the desert plain;
Of alabaster white, and free from stain,
Mid the tall trees the tapering columns rose;
Thither, with fainting steps, and weary pain,
Obedient to the voice at length she goes,
And at the threshold seeks protection and repose.

Round the soft scene immortal roses bloom,
While lucid myrtles in the breezes play;
No savage beast did ever yet presume
With foot impure within the grove to stray,
And far from hence flies every bird of prey;
Thus, mid the sandy Garamantian wild,
When Macedonia's lord pursued his way,
The sacred temple of great Ammon smiled,
And green encircling shades the long fatigue beguiled.

66

With awe that fearfully her doom awaits
Still at the portal Psyche timid lies,

When lo! advancing from the hallowed gates
Trembling she views with reverential eyes
An aged priest. A myrtle bough supplies

A wand, and roses bind his snowy brows:

"Bear hence thy feet profane (he sternly cries)
"Thy longer stay the goddess disallows,

Fly, nor her fiercer wrath too daringly aronse !"

His pure white robe imploringly she held,

And, bathed in tears, embraced his sacred knees;
Her mournful charms relenting he beheld,

And melting pity in his eye she sees;

66

Hope not (he cries) the goddess to appease,

"Retire at awful distance from her shrine,

"But seek the refuge of those sheltering trees,
"And now thy soul with humble awe incline

"To hear her sacred will, and mark the words divine.”

T

"Presumptuous

"Presumptuous Psyche! whose aspiring soul
"The God of Love has dared to arrogate;
"Rival of Venus! whose supreme controul
"Is now asserted by all-ruling fate,

"No suppliant tears her vengeance shall abate
"Till thou hast raised an altar to her power,
"Where perfect happiness, in lonely state,
"Has fixed her temple in secluded bower,
"By foot impure of man untrodden to this hour!

"And on the altar must thou place an urn "Filled from immortal Beauty's sacred spring, "Which foul deformity to grace can turn, "And back to fond affection's eyes can bring "The charms which fleeting fled on transient wing; "Snatch'd from the rugged steep where first they rise, "Dark rocks their crystal source o'ershadowing, "Let their clear water sparkle to the skies, "Where cloudless lustre beams, which happiness supplies!

"To Venus thus for ever reconciled,

"

(This one atonement all her wrath disarms)

"From thy loved Cupid then no more exiled,

"There shalt thou, free from sorrow and alarms,

"Enjoy for ever his celestial charms.

"But never shalt thou taste a pure repose,

"Nor ever meet thy lover's circling arms,

"Till, all subdued that shall thy steps oppose,

"Thy perils there shall end, escaped from all thy foes."

With meek submissive woe she heard her doom,
Nor to the holy minister replied;

But in the myrtle grove's mysterious gloom
She silently retired her grief to hide.
Hopeless to tread the waste without a guide,
All unrefreshed and faint from toil she lies:
When lo! her present wants are all supplied,
Sent by the hand of Love a turtle flies,

And sets delicious food before her wondering eyes.

Cheer'd by the favouring omen, softer tears
Relieve her bosom from its cruel weight:
She blames the sad despondence of her fears,
When still protected by a power so great,
His tenderness her toils will mitigate.
Then with renewed strength at least she goes,
Hoping to find some skilled in secret fate,
Some learned sage who haply might disclose
Where lay that blissful bower, the end of all her woes.

And

And as she went, behold, with hovering flight
The dove preceded still her doubtful way;
Its spotless plumage of the purest white,
Which shone resplendent in the blaze of day,
Could even in darkest gloom a light display;
Of heavenly birth, when first to mortals given
Named Innocence. But, ah! too short its stay;
By ravenous birds it fearfully was driven
Back to reside with Love, a denizen of heaven.

What fears the child?" he wondering cried, With courteous air as near he drew. "Soldier, away! my father died,

Murdered by men of blood like you."

Even while the angry cherub speaks,
He struggles from the stranger's grasp:
Kissing the tears that bathed her cheeks,
His little arms his mother clasp.

"And who are these,-this startled pair,
Who swift down Glenmalure are fled?
Behold the mother's maniac air,

As seized with wild and sudden dread!"

" "Tis Ellen Byrne," an old man cried; "Poor Ellen, and her orphan boy!" Then turned his silvered brow aside,

To shun the youth's inquiring eye.

"And is there none to guard the child,

Save that lone frenzied widow's hand? These rocky heights, these steep woods wild, Sure some more watchful eye demand.”

"Ah, well he knows each rock, each wood,
The mountain goat not more secure;
And he was born to hardships rude,
The orphan Byrne of Carickmure.

"That boy had seen his father's blood,

Had heard his murdered father's groan;

And never more in playful mood

With smiles his infant beauty shone."

Sad was the pitying stranger's eye:

"Too well," said he, "I guess the truth; His father, sure, was doomed to die,

Some poor deluded rebel youth."

"No rebel he," with eye inflamed,

And cheek that glowed with transient fire, Roused to a sudden warmth, exclaimed

The hapless Ellen's aged sire.

"He did not fall in Tarah's fight,

No blood of his the Curragh stains,

Where many a ghost that moans by night
Of foully broken faith complains.

He