To other worlds a husband went And left his wife in prime of youth. Above his dying couch she bent, And cried, 'My love, O wait for me! My soul would gladly go with thee!' (But yet it did not go.) The fair one's sire, a prudent man, Check'd not the current of her woe. At last he kindly thus began:-- 'My child, your grief should have its bound. What boots it him beneath the ground That you should drown your charms? Live for the living, not the dead. I don't propose that you be led At once to Hymen's arms; But give me leave, in proper time, To rearrange the broken chime With one who is as good, at least, In all respects, as the deceased.' 'Alas!' she sigh'd, 'the cloister vows Befit me better than a spouse.' The father left the matter there. About one month thus mourn'd the fair; Another month, her weeds arranged; Each day some robe or lace she changed, Till mourning dresses served to grace, And took of ornament the place. The frolic band of loves Came flocking back like doves. Jokes, laughter, and the dance, The native growth of France, Had finally their turn; And thus, by night and morn, She plunged, to tell the truth, Deep in the fount of youth. Her sire no longer fear'd The dead so much endear'd; But, as he never spoke, Herself the silence broke:-- 'Where is that youthful spouse,' said she, 'Whom, sir, you lately promised me?' [26] Abstemius. EPILOGUE. Here check we our career: Long books I greatly fear. I would not quite exhaust my stuff; The flower of subjects is enough. To me, the time is come, it seems, To draw my breath for other themes. Love, tyrant of my life, commands That other work be on my hands. I dare not disobey. Once more shall Psyche be my lay. I'm call'd by Damon to portray Her sorrows and her joys. I yield: perhaps, while she employs, My muse will catch a richer glow; And well if this my labour'd strain Shall be the last and only pain Her spouse[27] shall cause me here below. [27] _Her spouse_.--Cupid, the spouse of Psyche. The "other work on my hands" mentioned in this Epilogue (the end of the poet's first collection of Fables) was no doubt the writing of his "Psyche," which was addressed to his patron the Duchess de Bouillon, and published in 1659, the year following the publication of the first six Books of the Fables. See also Translator's Preface. * * * * * BOOK VII.[1] To Madame De Montespan[2]