 | Miscellaneous Poems |  |
100
CUPID AND PSYCHE.
FROM AN ANTIQUE GEM.
They painted Love a beauteous boy,
With purple wings and torch of flame;
They lit his laughing eye with joy,
And flush'd his burning cheek with shame.
With purple wings and torch of flame;
They lit his laughing eye with joy,
And flush'd his burning cheek with shame.
His mother's smiles, her sighs, her tears,
Her witching spells, her wond'rous zone,
The languish of her blushing fears,
Too well, alas! to him were known.
Her witching spells, her wond'rous zone,
The languish of her blushing fears,
Too well, alas! to him were known.
The bane of many a Grecian maid,
He roam'd by rock and haunted stream;
And smiled, when through the myrtle shade
He saw their long dark lashes gleam.
He roam'd by rock and haunted stream;
And smiled, when through the myrtle shade
He saw their long dark lashes gleam.
Oh! then as swift, as light as thought,
On lifted foot away he stole;
And in his hand, returning, brought
The youth who was their life, their soul.
On lifted foot away he stole;
And in his hand, returning, brought
The youth who was their life, their soul.
101
He pointed where, like violets, gleam'd
The lustre of the deep blue eye;
Or where their length'ning tresses stream'd
Like waves of ocean floating by.
The lustre of the deep blue eye;
Or where their length'ning tresses stream'd
Like waves of ocean floating by.
To cool his pulse's fever'd play,
In silence of the noontide hour,
The lovely boy half covered lay
With blossoms in the orange-bower.
In silence of the noontide hour,
The lovely boy half covered lay
With blossoms in the orange-bower.
He wakes! he starts! What wing so white
Comes sailing through the dark blue sky?
That little speck of moving light—
It is a silver butterfly?
Comes sailing through the dark blue sky?
That little speck of moving light—
It is a silver butterfly?
A wandering flower—a beauteous star;
It climbs the mountain's purple crest,
Skims the green wave, then darts afar
To fall upon the Rose's breast.
It climbs the mountain's purple crest,
Skims the green wave, then darts afar
To fall upon the Rose's breast.
“She comes! she comes!”—alas! it clung
Upon the citron's rich perfume;
And, pois'd, its fluttering pinions hung,
To sip the jasmine's opening bloom.
Upon the citron's rich perfume;
And, pois'd, its fluttering pinions hung,
To sip the jasmine's opening bloom.
102
Yet still it moves; still nearer now
Mounts on yon grotto's ivied wall;
Ah! see how throbs his burning brow!
Ah! listen to his murmuring call!
Mounts on yon grotto's ivied wall;
Ah! see how throbs his burning brow!
Ah! listen to his murmuring call!
“Come, Psyche, come;” his moving hair
Its dewy odours breath'd around;
She flew,—she dropt—she nestled there,
Then sank exhausted on the ground.
Its dewy odours breath'd around;
She flew,—she dropt—she nestled there,
Then sank exhausted on the ground.
| Miscellaneous Poems | |