18 Her fainting strength forsook her; on her knees Down by the bed she sank; the shameless knife Fell flashing, and her heart took thought to seize Its desperate haft, and end her wicked life. Yet coud she not her loving eyes withdraw From her fair sleeping lover, whom she saw Only to know she was no more his wife. 19 O treasure of all treasures, late her own! O loss above all losses, lost for aye! Since there was no repentance coud atone For her dishonour, nor her fate withstay. But yet 'twas joy to have her love in sight; And, to the rapture yielding while she might, She gazed upon his body where he lay. 20 Above all mortal beauty, as was hers, She saw a rival; but if passion's heart Be rightly read by subtle questioners, It owns a wanton and a gentler part. And Psyche wonder'd, noting every sign By which the immortal God, her spouse divine, Betray'd the image of our earthly art; 21 His thickly curling hair, his ruddy cheeks, And pouting lips, his soft and dimpl'd chin, The full and cushion'd eye, that idly speaks Of self-content and vanity within, The forward, froward ear, and smooth to touch His body sleek, but rounded overmuch For dignity of mind and pride akin. 22 She noted that the small irradiant wings, That from his shoulders lay along at rest, Were yet disturb'd with airy quiverings, As if some wakeful spirit his blood possest; She feared he was awaking, but they kept Their sweet commotion still, and still he slept, And still she gazed with never-tiring zest. 23 And now the colour of her pride and joy Outflush'd the hue of Eros; she, so cold, To have fired the passion of the heartless boy, Whom none in heaven or earth were found to hold! Psyche, the earthborn, to be prized above The heavenly Graces by the God of love, And worshipt by his wantonness untold! 24 Nay, for that very thing she loved him more, More than herself her sweet self's complement: Until the sight of him again upbore Her courage, and renew'd her vigour spent. And looking now around, she first espied Where at the bed's foot, cast in haste aside, Lay his full quiver, and his bow unbent. 25 One of those darts, of which she had heard so oft, She took to try if 'twas so very keen; And held its point against her finger soft So gently, that to touch it scarce was seen; Yet was she sharply prickt, and felt the fire Run through her veins; and now a strange desire Troubl'd her heart, which ne'er before had been: 26