Smiling to see the creature of her fear So dwarf'd by truth, she watcht him where he crept, For mere distraction telling in his ear What straits she then was in, and telling wept. Whereat he stood and trim'd his horns; but ere Her tale was done resumed his manner scare, Ran down, and on his way in darkness kept. 4 But she intent drew forth with dextrous hand The larger seeds, or push'd the smaller back, Or light from heavy with her breathing fan'd. When suddenly she saw the floor grow black, And troops of ants, flowing in noiseless train, Moved to the hill of seeds, as o'er a plain Armies approach a city for attack; 5 And gathering on the grain, began to strive With grappling horns: and each from out the heap His burden drew, and all their motion live Struggled and slid upon the surface steep. And Psyche wonder'd, watching them, to find The creatures separated kind from kind: Till dizzied with the sight she fell asleep. 6 And when she woke 'twas with the morning sound Of Aphrodite's anger at the door, Whom high amaze stay'd backward, as she found Her foe asleep with all her trouble o'er: And round the room beheld, in order due, The piles arranged distinct and sorted true, Grain with grain, seed with seed, and spore with spore. 7 She fiercely cried 'Thou shalt not thus escape; For to this marvel dar'st thou not pretend. There is but one that could this order shape, Demeter,--but I knew her not thy friend. Therefore another trial will I set, In which she cannot aid thee nor abet, But thou thyself must bring it fair to end.' 8 Thereon she sped her to the bounds of Thrace, And set her by a river deep and wide, And said 'To east beyond this stream, a race Of golden-fleecèd sheep at pasture bide. Go seek them out; and this thy task, to pull But one lock for me of their precious wool, And give it in my hands at eventide: 9 'This do and thou shalt have thy heart's desire.' Which said, she fled and left her by the stream: And Psyche then, with courage still entire, Had plunged therein; but now of great esteem Her life she rated, while it lent a spell Wherein she yet might hope to quit her well, And in one winning all her woes redeem. 10 There as she stood in doubt, a fluting voice Rose from the flood, 'Psyche, be not afraid To hear a reed give tongue, for 'twas of choice That I from mortal flesh a plant was made. My name is Syrinx; once from mighty Pan Into the drowning river as I ran, A fearful prayer my steps for ever stay'd. 11