O it has ruffled every spirit there, Saving love's self, who stands superb to share The general gladness: awfully he stands; A sovereign quell is in his waving hands; No sight can bear the lightning of his bow; His quiver is mysterious, none can know 540 What themselves think of it; from forth his eyes There darts strange light of varied hues and dyes: A scowl is sometimes on his brow, but who Look full upon it feel anon the blue Of his fair eyes run liquid through their souls. Endymion feels it, and no more controls The burning prayer within him; so, bent low, He had begun a plaining of his woe. But Venus, bending forward, said: "My child, Favour this gentle youth; his days are wild 550 With love--he--but alas! too well I see Thou know'st the deepness of his misery. Ah, smile not so, my son: I tell thee true, That when through heavy hours I used to rue The endless sleep of this new-born Adon', This stranger ay I pitied. For upon A dreary morning once I fled away Into the breezy clouds, to weep and pray For this my love: for vexing Mars had teaz'd Me even to tears: thence, when a little eas'd, 560 Down-looking, vacant, through a hazy wood, I saw this youth as he despairing stood: Those same dark curls blown vagrant in the wind; Those same full fringed lids a constant blind Over his sullen eyes: I saw him throw Himself on wither'd leaves, even as though Death had come sudden; for no jot he mov'd, Yet mutter'd wildly. I could hear he lov'd Some fair immortal, and that his embrace Had zoned her through the night. There is no trace 570 Of this in heaven: I have mark'd each cheek, And find it is the vainest thing to seek; And that of all things 'tis kept secretest. Endymion! one day thou wilt be blest: So still obey the guiding hand that fends Thee safely through these wonders for sweet ends. 'Tis a concealment needful in extreme; And if I guess'd not so, the sunny beam Thou shouldst mount up to with me. Now adieu! Here must we leave thee."--At these words up flew 580 The impatient doves, up rose the floating car, Up went the hum celestial. High afar The Latmian saw them minish into nought; And, when all were clear vanish'd, still he caught A vivid lightning from that dreadful bow. When all was darkened, with Etnean throe The earth clos'd--gave a solitary moan-- And left him once again in twilight lone.