But when the passion of their meeting fell To dalliance, the mighty lovers, sunk Within those ivory couches golden-fleeced, Made wassail at the wondrous board, and held Sweet stolen converse till the middle night. And soulless servitors came gliding in, Handmaidens, wrought of gold, the marvellous work Of lame Hêphæstos; having neither will, Nor voice, yet bearing on their golden trays Lush fruits and Cyprian wine, and, intermixt, Olympian food and nectar, earth with heaven. These Erôs and Alectryôn took therefrom, And placed before the lovers; and, meanwhile, Melodious breathings from unfingered lutes, Warblings from unseen nightingales, and songs From lips uncrimsoned, scattered music round. So fled the light-shod moments, hour by hour, While the grim husband clanged upon his forge In lurid caverns of the distant isle, Unboding, and unheeded in his home, Save with a scornful jest. Till now the crown Of Artemis shone at her topmost height: Then rose the impassioned lovers, with rapt eyes Fixed each on each, and passed beyond the hall, Through curtains of that chamber whence all winds Of love flow ever toward the fourfold Earth; At whose dim vestibule Alectryôn Disposed him, mindful of his master’s word; But Erôs, heavy-eyed, long since had slept, Deep-muffled in the softness of his plumes. And all was silence in the House of Fire. Only Alectryôn, through brazen bars, Watched the blue East for Eôs, she whose torch Should warn him of the coming of the Sun. Even thus he kept his vigils; but, ere half Her silvery downward path the Huntress knew, His senses by that rich immortal food Grew numbed with languor. Then the shadowy hall’s Deep columns glimmered, interblent with dreams,— Thick forests, running waters, darkling caves Of Thrace; and half in thought he grasped the bow; Hunted once more within his native wilds, Cheering the hounds; until before his eyes The drapery of all nearer pictures fell, And his limbs drooped. Whereat the imp of Sleep, Hypnos, who hid him at the outer gate, Slid in with silken-sandalled feet, and laid A subtle finger on his lids. And so, Crouched at the warder-post, Alectryôn slept. Meanwhile the God and Goddess, recking nought Of evil, trusting to the faithful boy, Sank satiate in the calm of trancéd rest. And past the sleeping warder, deep within The portals of that chamber whence all winds Of love flow ever toward the fourfold Earth, Hypnos kept on, walking, yet half afloat In the sweet air; and fluttering with cool wings Above their couch fanned the reposeful pair To slumber. Thus, a careless twilight hour, Unknowing Eôs and her torch, they slept.