She had a woman's mouth with all its pearls complete:60And for her eyes: what could such eyes do there[7] But weep, and weep, that they were born so fair? As Proserpine still weeps for her Sicilian air.
Her throat was serpent, but the words she spake Came, as through bubbling honey, for Love's sake, And thus; while Hermes on his pinions lay,
Like a stoop'd falcon ere he takes his prey.
"Fair Hermes, crown'd with feathers, fluttering light, I had a splendid dream of thee last night:
I saw thee sitting, on a throne of gold,70
Among the Gods, upon Olympus old, The only sad one; for thou didst not hear
The soft, lute-finger'd Muses chaunting clear,
Nor even Apollo when he sang alone,
Deaf to his throbbing throat's long, long melodious moan.
I dreamt I saw thee, robed in purple flakes,
Break amorous through the clouds, as morning breaks,[8] And, swiftly as a bright Phoebean dart,
Strike for the Cretan isle; and here thou art!
Too gentle Hermes, hast thou found the maid?"80
8
Whereat the star of Lethe not delay'd
His rosy eloquence, and thus inquired:
"Thou smooth-lipp'd serpent, surely high inspired! Thou beauteous wreath, with melancholy eyes, Possess whatever bliss thou canst devise,
Telling me only where my nymph is fled,--
Where she doth breathe!" "Bright planet, thou hast said," Return'd the snake, "but seal with oaths, fair God!"
"I swear," said Hermes, "by my serpent rod,
And by thine eyes, and by thy starry crown!"90
Light flew his earnest words, among the blossoms blown. Then thus again the brilliance feminine:
"Too frail of heart! for this lost nymph of thine,[9]
Free as the air, invisibly, she strays
About these thornless wilds; her pleasant days She tastes unseen; unseen her nimble feet Leave traces in the grass and flowers sweet;
From weary tendrils, and bow'd branches green, She plucks the fruit unseen, she bathes unseen: And by my power is her beauty veil'd100
To keep it unaffronted, unassail'd
By the love-glances of unlovely eyes,
Of Satyrs, Fauns, and blear'd Silenus' sighs. Pale grew her immortality, for woe
Of all these lovers, and she grieved so
I took compassion on her, bade her steep Her hair in weird syrops, that would keep Her loveliness invisible, yet free
To wander as she loves, in liberty.
Thou shalt behold her, Hermes, thou alone,110
If thou wilt, as thou swearest, grant my boon!"[10] Then, once again, the charmed God began
An oath, and through the serpent's ears it ran
Warm, tremulous, devout, psalterian. Ravish'd, she lifted her Circean head,
Blush'd a live damask, and swift-lisping said,
"I was a woman, let me have once more
A woman's shape, and charming as before. I love a youth of Corinth--O the bliss!
Give me my woman's form, and place me where he is.120
Stoop, Hermes, let me breathe upon thy brow, And thou shalt see thy sweet nymph even now." The God on half-shut feathers sank serene,
She breath'd upon his eyes, and swift was seen
Of both the guarded nymph near-smiling on the green. It was no dream; or say a dream it was,
Real are the dreams of Gods, and smoothly pass
Their pleasures in a long immortal dream.
One warm, flush'd moment, hovering, it might seem[11]
Dash'd by the wood-nymph's beauty, so he burn'd;130
Then, lighting on the printless verdure, turn'd To the swoon'd serpent, and with languid arm, Delicate, put to proof the lythe Caducean charm. So done, upon the nymph his eyes he bent
Full of adoring tears and blandishment,
And towards her stept: she, like a moon in wane, Faded before him, cower'd, nor could restrain Her fearful sobs, self-folding like a flower
9
That faints into itself at evening hour:
But the God fostering her chilled hand,140
She felt the warmth, her eyelids open'd bland, And, like new flowers at morning song of bees, Bloom'd, and gave up her honey to the lees. Into the green-recessed woods they flew;
Nor grew they pale, as mortal lovers do. Left to herself, the serpent now began
To change; her elfin blood in madness ran,[12]
Her mouth foam'd, and the grass, therewith besprent, Wither'd at dew so sweet and virulent;
Her eyes in torture fix'd, and anguish drear,150
Hot, glaz'd, and wide, with lid-lashes all sear,
Flash'd phosphor and sharp sparks, without one cooling tear.
The colours all inflam'd throughout her train, She writh'd about, convuls'd with scarlet pain: A deep volcanian yellow took the place
Of all her milder-mooned body's grace; And, as the lava ravishes the mead,
Spoilt all her silver mail, and golden brede;
Made gloom of all her frecklings, streaks and bars,
Eclips'd her crescents, and lick'd up her stars:160
So that, in moments few, she was undrest Of all her sapphires, greens, and amethyst, And rubious-argent: of all these bereft, Nothing but pain and ugliness were left.[13] Still shone her crown; that vanish'd, also she Melted and disappear'd as suddenly;
And in the air, her new voice luting soft, Cried, "Lycius! gentle Lycius!"--Borne aloft With the bright mists about the mountains hoar
These words dissolv'd: Crete's forests heard no more.170
Whither fled Lamia, now a lady bright, A full-born beauty new and exquisite? She fled into that valley they pass o'er
Who go to Corinth from Cenchreas' shore; And rested at the foot of those wild hills, The rugged founts of the Peraean rills,
