A MEDLEY.
135
A tempest, thro' the cloud that dimm'd her broke
A genial warmth and light once more, and shone
Thro' glittering drops on her sad friend.
A genial warmth and light once more, and shone
Thro' glittering drops on her sad friend.
Come hither
O Psyche,' she cried out, 'embrace me, come,
Quick while I melt; make reconcilement sure
With one that cannot keep her mind an hour:
Came to the hollow heart they slander so!
Kiss and be friends like children being chid!
I seem no more: I want forgiveness too:
I should have had to do with none but maids,
That have no links with men, Ah false but dear,
Dear traitor too much loved, why?—why?—Yet see
Before these kings we embrace you yet once more
With all forgiveness, all oblivion,
And trust not love you less.
O Psyche,' she cried out, 'embrace me, come,
Quick while I melt; make reconcilement sure
With one that cannot keep her mind an hour:
Came to the hollow heart they slander so!
Kiss and be friends like children being chid!
I seem no more: I want forgiveness too:
I should have had to do with none but maids,
That have no links with men, Ah false but dear,
Dear traitor too much loved, why?—why?—Yet see
Before these kings we embrace you yet once more
With all forgiveness, all oblivion,
And trust not love you less.
And now, O Sire,
Grant me your son, to nurse, to wait upon him,
Grant me your son, to nurse, to wait upon him,
