psyche at school.
171
The angels write Love's idioms on the heart;
They are not learned by art."
They are not learned by art."
Pride took an ancient book,
To teach the high-bred air, the scornful look.
Psyche returned her gaze with meek surprise,
And said, "Mine are not glass, but real eyes,
And will not stare like dead men's; since I see,
I cannot learn of thee. "
To teach the high-bred air, the scornful look.
Psyche returned her gaze with meek surprise,
And said, "Mine are not glass, but real eyes,
And will not stare like dead men's; since I see,
I cannot learn of thee. "
"The child rebels," said Pride,
"Now be the lash by some rough teacher plied."
Then Poverty her rudest blows did give;
Said Psyche, "Pain assures me that I live.
"My robes are torn; but courage, faith, and love,
My triple mail, I prove."
"Now be the lash by some rough teacher plied."
Then Poverty her rudest blows did give;
Said Psyche, "Pain assures me that I live.
"My robes are torn; but courage, faith, and love,
My triple mail, I prove."
Grief brought a scroll, writ o'er
With ink of nightshade and of hellebore.
Its damps were rainbows under Psyche's smile.
Despair with black tome open stood the while,
But said, "Her eyes would make the page too bright,"
And stole away from sight.
With ink of nightshade and of hellebore.
Its damps were rainbows under Psyche's smile.
Despair with black tome open stood the while,
But said, "Her eyes would make the page too bright,"
And stole away from sight.
