'Much to our peril hast thou won thy will; Thy sisters' love, seeing thee honour'd so, Will sour to envy, and with jealous skill Will pry to learn the thing that none may know. Answer not, nor inquire; for know that I The day thou seest my face far hence shall fly, And thou anew to bitterest fate must go.' 31 But Psyche said, 'Thy love is more than life; To have thee leaveth nothing to be won: For should the noonday prove me to be wife Even of the beauteous Eros, who is son Of Cypris, I coud never love thee more.' Whereat he fondly kisst her o'er and o'er, And peace was 'twixt them till the night was done. SECOND QUARTER SUMMER PSYCHE'S SISTERS · SNARING HER TO DESTRUCTION · ARE THEMSELVES DESTROYED JUNE 1 And truly need there was to the old King For consolation: since the mournful day Of Psyche's fate he took no comforting, But only for a speedy death would pray; And on his head his hair grew silver-white. --Such on life's topmost bough is sorrow's blight, When the stout heart is cankering to decay. 2 Which when his daughters learnt, they both were quick Comfort and solace to their sire to lend. But as not seldom they who nurse the sick Will take the malady from them they tend, So happ'd it now; for they who fail'd to cheer Grew sad themselves, and in that palace drear Increased the evil that they came to mend. 3 And them the unhappy father sent to seek Where Psyche had been left, if they might find What monster held her on the savage peak; Or if she there had died of hunger pined, And, by wild eagles stript, her scatter'd bones Might still be gather'd from the barren stones; Or if her fate had left no trace behind. 4 So just upon this time her sisters both Climb'd on the cliff that hung o'er Psyche's vale; And finding there no sign, to leave were loth Ere well assured she lurk'd not within hail. So calling loud her name, 'Psyche!' they cried, 'Psyche, O Psyche!' and when none replied They sank upon the rocks to weep and wail. 5 But Psyche heard their voices where she sat, And summoning the Zephyr bade him fleet Those mourners down unto the grassy plat 'Midst of her garden, where she had her seat. Then from the dizzy steep the wondering pair Came swiftly sinking on his buoyant air, And stood upon the terrace at her feet. 6 Upsprang she then, and kiss'd them and embraced, And said 'Lo, here am I, I whom ye mourn. I am not dead, nor tortured, nor disgraced, But blest above all days since I was born: Wherefore be glad. Enter my home and see How little cause has been to grieve for me, And my desertion on the rocks forlorn.' 7