While through the thronged streets your bridal car Wheels round its dazzling spokes."-The lady's cheek 65 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 Feigning a sleep; and he to the dull shade. 105 Of deep sleep in a moment was betray'd. It was the custom then to bring away The bride from home at blushing shut of day, Veil'd, in a chariot, heralded along By strewn flowers, torches, and a marriage song, Beseeching him, the while his hand she 110 With other pageants: but this fair un stung, 70 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. 75 His passion, cruel grown, took on a hue Fierce and sanguineous as 'twas possible In one whose brow had no dark veins to swell. Fine was the mitigated fury, like Apollo's presence when in act to strike 80 The serpent-Ha, the serpent! certes, she Was none. She burnt, she lov'd the tyr'anny, And, all subdued, consented to the hour When to the bridal he should lead his paramour. Whispering in midnight silence, said the youth, 85 Sure some sweet name thou hast, though, by my truth, known Had not a friend. So being left alone, ness, 115 She set herself, high-thoughted, how to dress 120 125 I have not ask 'd it, ever thinking thee Not mortal, but of heavenly progeny, As still I do. Hast any mortal name, Fit appellation for this dazzling frame? 90 Or friends or kinsfolk on the citied earth, To share our marriage feast and nuptial 130 mirth?" "I have no friends," said Lamia, "no, not one; My presence in wide Corinth hardly known: My parents' bones are in their dusty urns 95 Sepulchred, where no kindled incense burns, Seeing all their luckless race are dead, save me, And I neglect the holy rite for thee. Even as you list invite your many guests; But if, as now it seems, your vision rests 100 With any pleasure on me, do not bid Old Apollonius-from him keep me hid." Lycius, perplex'd at words so blind and blank, Made close inquiry; from whose touch she shrank, The misery in fit magnificence. She did so, but 'tis doubtful how and whence Came, and who were her subtle servitors. About the halls, and to and from the doors, There was a noise of wings, till in short space The glowing banquet-room shone with wide-arched grace. A haunting music, sole perhaps and lone Fresh carved cedar, mimicking a glade All down the aisled place; and beneath all There ran a stream of lamps straight on from wall to wall. So canopied, lay an untasted feast Teeming with odors. Lamia, regal drest, Silently pac'd about, and as she went, 135 In pale contented sort of discontent, 140 Mission'd her viewless servants to enrich The fretted splendor of each nook and niche. Between the tree-stems, marbled plain at first, Came jasper panels; then, anon, there burst Forth creeping imagery of slighter trees, And with the larger wove in small intrica cies. Approving all, she faded at self-will, And shut the chamber up, close, hush'd and still, No more so strange; for merry wine, sweet 245 And pledge him. The bald-head philosowine, 265 pher Had fix'd his eye, without a twinkle or stir Full on the alarmed beauty of the bride, Brow-beating her fair form, and troubling her sweet pride. Lycius then press'd her hand, with devout touch, As pale it lay upon the rosy couch: 'Twas icy, and the cold ran through his veins; Then sudden it grew hot, and all the pains Of an unnatural heat shot to his heart. "Lamia, what means this? Wherefore dost thou start? Know'st thou that man?" Poor Lamia answer'd not. He gaz'd into her eyes, and not a jot Own'd they the lovelorn piteous appeal: More, more he gaz'd: his human senses reel: Some hungry spell that loveliness absorbs; There was no recognition in those orbs. "Lamia!" he cried-and no soft-ton'd reply. The many heard, and the loud revelry Grew hush; the stately music no more breathes; The myrtle sicken'd in a thousand wreaths. By faint degrees, voice, lute, and pleasure ceas'd; A deadly silence step by step increas'd "Lamia!" he shriek'd; and nothing but 270 With its sad echo did the silence break. 'Begone, foul dream!" he cried, gazing again In the bride's face, where now no azure vein Wander'd on fair-spac'd temples; no soft bloom Misted the cheek; no passion to illume By her glad Lycius sitting, in chief place, 275 The deep-recessed vision:-all was blight; 240 Scarce saw in all the room another face, Lamia, no longer fair, there sat a deadly |