After a thousand mazes overgone,
At last, with sudden step, he came upon
A chamber, myrtle-wall'd, embower'd high,
Full of light, incense, tender minstrelsy, 390
And more of beautiful and strange beside:
For on a silken couch of rosy pride,
In midst of all, there lay a sleeping youth
Of fondest beauty; fonder, in fair sooth,
Than sighs could fathom, or contentment
reach:

And coverlids gold-tinted like the peach,
Or ripe October's faded marigolds,
Fell sleek about him in a thousand folds -
Not hiding up an Apollonian curve

440

Presents immortal bowers to mortal sense;
As now 't is done to thee, Endymion. Hence
Was I in no wise startled. So recline
Upon these living flowers. Here is wine,
Alive with sparkles — never,
I aver,
Since Ariadne was a vintager,

So cool a purple: taste these juicy pears,
Sent me by sad Vertumnus, when his fears
Were high about Pomona: here is cream,
Deepening to richness from a snowy gleam;
Sweeter than that nurse Amalthea skimm'd
For the boy Jupiter: and here, undimm'd
By any touch, a bunch of blooming plums
Ready to melt between an infant's gums:
And here is manna pick'd from Syrian
trees,

452

In starlight, by the three Hesperides. Feast on, and meanwhile I will let thee know

Of all these things around us.'

So,

He did

Still brooding o'er the cadence of his lyre;
And thus: I need not any hearing tire
By telling how the sea-born goddess pined
For a mortal youth, and how she strove to
bind

Him all in all unto her doating self. 460 Who would not be so prison'd? but, fond elf,

He was content to let her amorous plea Faint through his careless arms; content to

see

An unseized heaven dying at his feet; Content, O fool! to make a cold retreat, When on the pleasant grass such love, lovelorn,

Lay sorrowing; when every tear was born Of diverse passion; when her lips and eyes Were closed in sullen moisture, and quick sighs

Curses upon his head. — I was half glad, But my poor mistress went distract and mad,

When the boar tusk'd him: so away she flew To Jove's high throne, and by her plainings drew

Immortal tear-drops down the thunderer's beard;

Whereon, it was decreed he should be rear'd

Each summer-time to life. Lo! this is he,
That same Adonis, safe in the privacy
Of this still region all his winter-sleep. 480
Aye, sleep; for when our love-sick queen
did weep

Over his waned corse, the tremulous

So, with unusual gladness, on he hies

Through caves, and palaces of mottled

ore,

Of those dusk places in times far aloof Cathedrals call'd. He bade a loth fare

well

end

Through unknown things; till exhaled asphodel,

And rose, with spicy fannings interbreathed, Came swelling forth where little caves were wreathed

So thick with leaves and mosses, that they seem'd

Large honeycombs of green, and freshly teem'd

With airs delicious. In the greenest nook The eagle landed him, and farewell took.

It was a jasmine bower, all bestrown 670 With golden moss. His every sense had

grown

Ethereal for pleasure; 'bove his head
Flew a delight half-graspable; his tread
Was Hesperean; to his capable ears
Silence was music from the holy spheres;
A dewy luxury was in his eyes;
The little flowers felt his pleasant sighs
And stirr'd them faintly. Verdant cave

and cell

He wander'd through, oft wondering at such swell

680

Of sudden exaltation: but, 'Alas!'
Said he,' will all this gush of feeling pass
Away in solitude? And must they wane,
Like melodies upon a sandy plain,
Without an echo? Then shall I be left
So sad, so melancholy, so bereft !
Yet still I feel immortal! O my love,

bend

above,