On Hellespont, guilty of true love's blood, In view and opposite two cities stood, Sea-borderers, disjoin'd by Neptune's might The one Abydos, the other Sestos hight. At Sestos Hero dwelt; Hero the fair, Whom young Apollo courted for her hair, And offer'd as a dower his burning throne, Where she should sit, for men to gaze upon.... Some say, for her the fairest Cupid pin'd, And, looking in her face, was strooken blind. But this is true: so like was one the other, As he imagined Hero was his mother; And oftentimes into her bosom flew, About her naked neck his bare arms threw, And laid his childish head upon her breast, And, with still panting rockt, there took his rest. In Abydos dwelt the manly Leander, who, as luck would have it, bethought himself one day of the festival of Venus in Sestos, and thither fared to do obeisance to the goddess. On this feast-day,--O cursèd day and hour!-- Went Hero through Sestos, from her tower To Venus' temple, where unhappily, As after chanc'd, they did each other spy. So fair a church as this had Venus none; The walls were of discolored jasper-stone, ... And in the midst a silver altar stood: There Hero, sacrificing turtle's blood, Vail'd to the ground, veiling her eyelids close; And modestly they opened as she rose: Thence flew Love's arrow with the golden head; And thus Leander was enamourèd. Stone-still he stood, and evermore he gaz'd, Till with the fire, that from his countenance blaz'd, Relenting Hero's gentle heart was strook: Such power and virtue hath an amorous look. It lies not in our power to love or hate, For will in us is overrul'd by fate. When two are stript long e'er the course begin, We wish that one should lose, the other win; And one especially do we affect Of two gold ingots, like in each respect: The reason no man knows; let it suffice, What we behold is censur'd by our eyes. Where both deliberate, the love is slight: Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight? He kneel'd; but unto _her_ devoutly prayed: Chaste Hero to herself thus softly said, "Were I the saint he worships, I would hear him"; And, as she spake those words, came somewhat near him. He started up; she blush'd as one asham'd; Wherewith Leander much more was inflam'd. He touch'd her hand; in touching it she trembled: Love deeply grounded, hardly is dissembled.... So they conversed by touch of hands, till Leander, plucking up courage, began to plead with words, with sighs and tears.