But them the singers of the gods o'ercame, And pluck'd them of their plumage, where in fright They vainly flutter'd off to hide their shame, Upon two rocks that lie within the bight, Under the headland, barren and alone; Which, being with the scatter'd feathers strewn, Were by the folk named Leukæ, which is _White_. 5 Thereon about this time the snowy gull, Minion of Aphrodite, being come, Plumed himself, standing on the sea-wrack dull, That drifted from the foot of Cyamum; And 'twas his thought, that had the goddess learnt The tale of Psyche loved and Eros burnt, She ne'er so long had kept aloof and dumb. 6 Wherefore that duteous gossip of Love's queen Devised that he the messenger would be; And rising from the rock, he skim'd between The chasing waves--such grace have none but he;-- Into the middle deep then down he dived, And rowing with his glistening wings arrived At Aphrodite's bower beneath the sea. 7 The eddies from his silver pinions swirl'd The crimson, green, and yellow floss, that grew About the caves, and at his passing curl'd Its graceful silk, and gently waved anew: Till, oaring here and there, the queen he found Stray'd from her haunt unto a sandy ground, Dappl'd with eye-rings in the sunlight blue. 8 She, as he came upon her from above, With Hora play'd; Hora, her herald fair, That lays the soft necessity of Love On maidens' eyelids, and with tender care Marketh the hour, as in all works is fit: And happy they in love who time outwit, Fondly constrained in her season rare. 9 But he with garrulous and laughing tongue Broke up his news; how Eros, fallen sick, Lay tossing on his bed, to frenzy stung By such a burn as did but barely prick: A little bleb, no bigger than a pease, Upon his shoulder 'twas, that kill'd his ease, Fever'd his heart, and made his breathing thick. 10 'For which disaster hath he not been seen This many a day at all in any place: And thou, dear mistress,' piped he, 'hast not been Thyself amongst us now a dreary space: The pining mortals suffer from a dearth Of love; and for this sadness of the earth Thy family is darken'd with disgrace. 11 'Now on the secret paths of dale and wood, Where lovers walk'd are lovers none to find: And friends, besworn to equal brotherhood, Forget their faith, and part with words unkind: In the first moon thy honey-bond is loath'd: And I coud tell even of the new-betroth'd That fly o'ersea, and leave their loves behind. 12