But she arising bade the youth arise. “What cause to fly?” said Tamar; she replied, “Ask none for flight, and feign none for delay.” “Oh, am I then deceived! or am I cast From dreams of pleasure to eternal sleep, And, when I cease to shudder, cease to be!” She held the downcast bridegroom to her breast, Looked in his face and charmed away his fears. She said not “Wherefore leave I then embraced You a poor shepherd, or at most a man, Myself a nymph, that now I should deceive?” She said not—Tamar did, and was ashamed. Him overcome her serious voice bespake. “Grief favours all who bear the gift of tears! Mild at first sight he meets his votaries And casts no shadow as he comes along: But after his embrace the marble chills The pausing foot, the closing door sounds loud, The fiend in triumph strikes the roof, then falls The eye uplifted from his lurid shade. Tamar, depress thyself, and miseries Darken and widen: yes, proud-hearted man! The sea-bird rises as the billows rise; Nor otherwise when mountain floods descend Smiles the unsullied lotus glossy-haired. Thou, claiming all things, leanest on thy claim Till overwhelmed through incompliancy. Tamar, some silent tempest gathers round!” “Round whom?” retorted Tamar; “thou describe The danger, I will dare it.” “Who will dare What is unseen?” “The man that is unblessed.” “But wherefore thou? It threatens not thyself, Nor me, but Gebir and the Gadite host.” “The more I know, the more a wretch am I.” Groaned deep the troubled youth, “still thou proceed.” “Oh, seek not destined evils to divine, Found out at last too soon! cease here the search, ’Tis vain, ’tis impious, ’tis no gift of mine: I will impart far better, will impart What makes, when winter comes, the sun to rest So soon on ocean’s bed his paler brow, And night to tarry so at spring’s return. And I will tell sometimes the fate of men Who loosed from drooping neck the restless arm Adventurous, ere long nights had satisfied The sweet and honest avarice of love; How whirlpools have absorbed them, storms o’er-whelmed, And how amid their struggles and their prayers The big wave blackened o’er the mouths supine: Then, when my Tamar trembles at the tale, Kissing his lips half open with surprise, Glance from the gloomy story, and with glee Light on the fairer fables of the gods. Thus we may sport at leisure where we go Where, loved by Neptune and the Naiad, loved By pensive Dryad pale, and Oread The spritely nymph whom constant Zephyr wooes, Rhine rolls his beryl-coloured wave; than Rhine What river from the mountains ever came More stately! most the simple crown adorns Of rushes and of willows interwined With here and there a flower: his lofty brow Shaded with vines and mistletoe and oak