Two heads in council, two beside the hearth, Two in the tangled business of the world, Two in the liberal offices of life, Two plummets dropt for one to sound the abyss Of science, and the secrets of the mind: Musician, painter, sculptor, critic, more: And everywhere the broad and bounteous Earth Should bear a double growth of those rare souls, Poets, whose thoughts enrich the blood of the world.' She ended here, and beckon'd us the rest Parted; and, glowing full-faced welcome, she Began to address us, and was moving on In gratulation, till as when a boat Tacks, and the slacken'd sail flaps, all her voice 'My brother!' Well, my sister.' 'O' she said · What do you here? and in this dress? and these? Why who are these? a wolf within the fold! A pack of wolves! the Lord be gracious to me! A plot, a plot, a plot to ruin all!' No plot, no plot,' he answer'd. Wretched boy, How saw you not the inscription on the gate, LET NO MAN ENTER IN ON PAIN OF DEATH? And if I had' he answer'd who could think The softer Adams of your Academe, O sister, Sirens tho' they be, were such As chanted on the blanching bones of men?' 'But you will find it otherwise' she said. You jest ill jesting with edge-tools! my vow : Binds me to speak, and O that iron will, That axelike edge unturnable, our Head, Well then, Psyche, take my life, And nail me like a weasel on a grange For warning: bury me beside the gate, Here lies a brother by a sister slain, s; All for the common good of womankind.' 'Let me die too' said Cyril having seen And heard the Lady Psyche.' I struck in: 'Albeit so mask'd, Madam, I love the truth; Receive it; and in me behold the Prince To the Lady Ida: here, for here she was, And thus (what other way was left) I came.' O Sir, O Prince, I have no country; none; If any, this; but none. Whate'er I was Disrooted, what I am is grafted here. Affianced, Sir? love-whispers may not breathe Within this vestal limit, and how should I, Who am not mine, say, live: the thunderbolt Hangs silent; but prepare: I speak ; it falls.' Yet pause,' I said: for that inscription there, I think no more of deadly lurks therein, Than in a clapper clapping in a garth, To scare the fowl from fruit: if more there be, If more and acted on, what follows? war; Your own work marr'd: for this your Academe, Will topple to the trumpet down, and pass A stormless summer.' Let the Princess judge 6 Of that' she said: farewell Sir-and to you. I shudder at the sequel, but I go' 6 Are you that Lady Psyche' I rejoin'd, The fifth in line from that old Florian, As he bestrode my Grandsire, when he fell, With whom I sang about the morning hills, My sickness down to happy dreams? are you You were that Psyche, but what are you now? I would be that for ever which I seem Woman, if I might sit beside your feet, And glean your scatter'd sapience.' 6 Are you that Lady Psyche' I began, Then once more, 'That on her bridal morn before she past From all her old companions, when the king |