They set on high upon the bridal wain Her bed for bier, and yet no corpse thereon; But like as when unto a warrior slain And not brought home the ceremonies done Are empty, for afar his body brave Lies lost, deep buried by the wandering wave Or 'neath the foes his fury fell upon,-- 21 So was her hearse: and with it went afore, Singing the solemn dirge that moves to tears, The singers; and behind, clad as for war, The King uncrown'd among his mournful peers, All 'neath their armour robed in linen white; And in their left were shields, and in their right Torches they bore aloft instead of spears. 22 And next the virgin tribe in white forth sail'd, With wreaths of dittany; and 'midst them there Went Psyche, all in lily-whiteness veil'd, The white Quince-blossom chapleting her hair: And last the common folk, a weeping crowd, Far as the city-gates with wailings loud Follow'd the sad procession in despair. 23 Thus forth and up the mount they went, until The funeral chariot must be left behind, Since road was none for steepness of the hill; And slowly by the narrow path they wind: All afternoon their white and scatter'd file Toil'd on distinct, ascending many a mile Over the long brown slopes and crags unkind. 24 But ere unto the snowy peak they came Of that stormshapen pyramid so high, 'Twas evening, and with footsteps slow and lame They gather'd up their lagging company: And then her sire, even as Apollo bade, Set on the topmost rock the hapless maid, With trembling hands and melancholy cry. 25 And now the sun was sunk; only the peak Flash'd like a jewel in the deepening blue: And from the shade beneath none dared to speak, But all look'd up, where glorified anew Psyche sat islanded in living day. Breathless they watcht her, till the last red ray Fled from her lifted arm that waved adieu. 26 There left they her, turning with sad farewells To haste their homeward course, as best they might: But night was crowding up the barren fells, And hid full soon their rocky path from sight; And each unto his stumbling foot to hold His torch was fain, for o'er the moon was roll'd A mighty cloud from heaven, to blot her light. 27 And thro' the darkness for long while was seen That armour'd train with waving fires to thread Downwards, by pass, defile, and black ravine, Each leading on the way that he was led. Slowly they gain'd the plain, and one by one Into the shadows of the woods were gone, Or in the clinging mists were quench'd and fled. 28