So fairy-quick, was strange! Bewildered, Endymion sought around, and shook each bed Of covert flowers in vain; and then he flung | Himself along the grass. What gentle tongue, What whisperer, disturb'd his gloomy rest? It was a nymph uprisen to the breast In the fountain's pebbly margin, and she stood Hereat she vanish'd from Endymion's gaze, Who brooded o'er the water in amaze: The dashing fount pour'd on, and where its pool Lay, half asleep, in grass and rushes cool, Quick waterflies and gnats were sporting still, And fish were dimpling, as if good nor ill Had fallen out that hour. The wanderer, 'Mong lilies, like the youngest of the Holding his forehead, to keep off the burr Of smothering fancies, patiently sat down; And, while beneath the evening's sleepy brood. 100 To him her dripping hand she softly kist, And anxiously began to plait and twist Her ringlets round her fingers, saying: 'Youth! Too long, alas, hast thou starved on the ruth, The bitterness of love: too long indeed, Seeing thou art so gentle. Could I weed Thy soul of care, by heavens, I would offer All the bright riches of my crystal coffer To Amphitrite; all my clear-eyed fish, Golden, or rainbow-sided, or purplish, Vermilion-tail'd, or finn'd with silvery gauze; 110 grow, Whether to weeds or flowers; but for me, There is no depth to strike in: I can see Naught earthly worth my compassing; so stand Upon a misty, jutting head of land But the soft shadow of my thrice seen love, And, but from the deep cavern there was Large wings upon my shoulders, and point Of icy pinnacles, and dipp'dst thine arms Dear goddess, help! or the wide gaping But mingled up; a gleaming melancholy; He had touch'd his forehead, he began to thread All courts and passages, where silence dead, Roused by his whispering footsteps, murmur'd faint: And long he traversed to and fro, to acquaint Himself with every mystery, and awe; 270 And thoughts of self came on, how crude and sore The journey homeward to habitual self! Cheats us into a swamp, into a fire, 280 After a thousand mazes overgone, And coverlids gold-tinted like the peach, |