January

But Eros now recover'd from his hurt,Felt other pangs; for who would not relentWeighing the small crime and unmatch'd desertOf Psyche with her cruel punishment?And shamed he grew to be so near alliedTo her, who by her taunts awoke his pride,As his compassion by her spite unspent.

Which Aphrodite seeing, wax'd more firmThat he should never meet with Psyche more;And had in thought already set the termTo their communion with that trial sore,Which sent her forth upon a quest accurst,And not to be accomplisht, that of thirstShe there might perish on hell's torrid shore.

And now it chanced that she had called her sonInto her presence-chamber, to unfoldPsyche's destruction, that her fate might stunWhat love remained by duty uncontrol'd;And he to hide his tears' rebellious stormWas fled; when in his place another formRose 'neath the golden lintel; and behold

Psyche herself, in slow and balanced strain,Poising the crystal bowl with fearful heed,Her eyes at watch upon the steadied plane,And whole soul gather'd in the single deed.Onward she came, and stooping to the floorSet down the cup unspill'd and brimming o'erAt Aphrodite's feet, and rose up freed.

Surprise o'ercame the goddess, and she tooStood like a statue, but with passion pale:Till, when her victim nothing spake, she threwSome kindness in her voice, and bade her hail;But in the smiling judge 'twas plain to see--Saying 'What water bringst thou here to me?'--That justice over hate should not prevail.

Then Psyche said 'This is the biting floodOf black Cocytus, silver'd with the gleamOf souls, that guilty of another's bloodAre pent therein, and as they swim they scream.The hornèd snakes of hell, upon the mountEnchain'd, for ever guard the livid fount:And but the Fates can grant to touch the stream.'

'Wherefore,' the goddess cried, ''tis plain that noneBut one I wot of coud this thing have wrought.That which another doth may well be done,Nor thou the nearer to my promise brought.Thou buildest on a hope to be destroy'd,If thou accept conditions, and avoidThy parcel, nor thyself accomplish aught.

'Was it not kindness in me, being averseTo all thy wish, to yield me thus to grantThy heart's desire,--and nothing loathe I worse,--If thou wouldst only work as well as want?See, now I will not yet be all denial,But offer thee one last determining trial;And let it be a mutual covenant:

'This box,' and in her hands she took a pyxSquare-cut, of dark obsidian's rarest green,'Take; and therewith beyond Tartarean StyxGo thou, and entering Hades' house obscene,Say to Persephonè, If 'tis thy willTo shew me so much favour, prithee fillThis little vase with beauty for Love's queen.

'She begs but what shall well o'erlast a day;For of her own was much of late outspentIn nursing of her son, in bed who layWounded by me, who for the gift am sent.Then bring me what she gives, and with all speed;For truth to say I stand, thou seest, in needOf some such charm in my disparagement.

'If thou return to me with that acquist,Having thyself the journey made, I swearThat day to give thee whatsoe'er thou list,An be it my son. Now, Psyche, wilt thou dare?'And Psyche said 'If this thou truly mean,I will go down to Tartarus obscene,And beg of Hades' queen thy beauty there.

'Show me the way.' But Aphrodite said,'That may'st thou find. Yet I will place thee whenceA way there is: mortals have on it sped;Ay, and return'd thereby: so let us hence.'Then swift to earth her willing prey she bore,And left her on the wide Laconian shore,Alone, at midnight, in the darkness dense.

'Twas winter; and as shivering Psyche satWaiting for morn, she question'd in her mindWhat place the goddess meant, arrived whereatShe might descend to hell, or how should findThe way which Gods to living men deny.'No Orpheus, nay, nor Hercules am I,'Said she, 'to loosen where the great Gods bind.'

And when at length the long-delaying dawnBroke on the peaks of huge Taÿgetus,And Psyche through the skirts of dark withdrawnLook'd on that promontory mountainous,And saw high-crested Taleton in snow,Her heart sank, and she wept with head bent lowThe malice of her foe dispiteous.

And seeing near at hand an ancient tower,Deserted now, but once a hold of men,She came thereto, and, though 'twas all her power,Mounted its steep unbroken stair again.'Surely,' she said, for now a second timeShe thought to die--'this little height I climbWill prove my shortest road to Pluto's den.

'Hence must I come to Tartarus; once thereTurn as I may,' and straight to death had sprung;When in the mossy tower the imprison'd airWas shaken, and the hoary stones gave tongue,'Stand firm! Stand firm!' that rugged voice outcried;'Of such as choose despondency for guideHast thou not heard what bitterest fate is sung?

'Hearken; for I the road and means can teachHow thou may'st come to hell and yet escape.And first must thou, that upper gate to reach,Along these seagirt hills thy journey shape,To where the land in sea dips furthest SouthAt Tænarus and Hades' earthly mouth,Hard by Poseidon's temple at the cape.

'Thereby may one descend: but they that makeThat passage down must go provided well.So take in either hand a honey-cakeOf pearlèd barley mix'd with hydromel;And in thy mouth two doits, first having boundThe pyx beneath thy robe enwrap'd around:Thus set thou forth; and mark what more I tell.

'When thou hast gone alone some half thy roadThou wilt o'ertake a lame outwearied ass;And one that beats him, tottering 'neath his loadOf loosely bundl'd wood, will cry Alas;Help me, kind friend, my faggots to adjust!But thou that silly cripple's words mistrust;'Tis planted for thy death. Note it and pass.

'And when thy road the Stygian river joins,Where woolly Charon ferries o'er the dead,He will demand his fare: one of thy coinsForce with thy tongue between thy teeth, thy headOffering instead of hand to give the doit.His fingers in this custom are adroit,And thine must not set down the barleybread.

'Then in his crazy bark as, ferrying o'erThe stream, thou sittest, one that seems to floatRather than swim, midway 'twixt shore and shore,Will stretch his fleshless hand upon the boat,And beg thee of thy pity take him in.Shut thy soft ear unto his clamour thin,Nor for a phantom deed thyself devote.

'Next, on the further bank when thou art stept,Three wizen'd women weaving at the woofWill stop, and pray thee in their art adeptTo free their tangl'd threads. Hold thou aloof;For this and other traps thy foe hath plan'dTo make thee drop the cakes out of thy hand,Putting thy prudence to perpetual proof.

'For by one cake thou comest into Hell,And by one cake departest; since the houndThat guards the gate is ever pleasèd wellTo taste man's meal, or sweeten'd grain unground.Cast him a cake; for that thou may'st go freeEven to the mansion of Persephonè,Withouten stay or peril, safe and sound.

'She will receive thee kindly; thou declineHer courtesies, and make the floor thy seat;Refusing what is offer'd, food or wine;Save only beg a crust of bread to eat.Then tell thy mission, and her present take;Which when thou hast, set forth with pyx and cake,One in each hand, while yet thou may'st retreat.

'Giving thy second cake to Cerberus,The coin to Charon, and that way wherebyThou camest following, thou comest thusTo see again the starry choir on high.But guard thou well the pyx, nor once upliftThe lid to look on Persephassa's gift;Else 'tis in vain I bid thee now not die.'

Then Psyche thank'd the tower, and stoopt her mouthTo kiss the stones upon his rampart hoary;And coming down his stair went hasting south,Along the steep Tænarian promontory;And found the cave and temple by the cape,And took the cakes and coins, and made escapeBeneath the earth, according to his story.

And overtook the ass, but lent no aid;And offer'd Charon with her teeth his fee;And pass'd the floating ghost, in vain who pray'd;And turned her back upon the weavers three;And threw the honey-cake to that hell-houndThree-headed Cerberus; and safe and sound,Came to the mansion of Persephonè.

Kindly received, she courtesy declined:Sat on the ground; ate not, save where she lay,A crust of bread; reveal'd the goddess' mind;The gift took; and return'd upon her way:Gave Cerberus his cake, Charon his fare,And saw through Hell's mouth to the purple airAnd one by one the keen stars melt in day.

Awhile from so long journeying in the shadesResting at Tænarus she came to knowHow, up the eastern coast some forty stades,There stood a temple of her goddess foe.There would she make her offering, there reclaimThe prize, which now 'twas happiness to name,The joy that should redeem all passèd woe.

And wending by the sunny shore at noon,She with her pyx, and wondering what it hid,Of what kind, what the fashion of the boonCoud be, that she to look on was forbid,--Alas for Innocence so hard to teach!--At fancy's prick she sat her on the beach,And to content desire lifted the lid.

She saw within nothing: But o'er her sightThat looked on nothing gan a darkness creep.A cloudy poison, mix'd of Stygian night,Rapt her to deadly and infernal sleep.Backward she fell, like one when all is o'er,And lay outstretch'd, as lies upon the shoreA drown'd corpse cast up by the murmuring deep.