The Raven.
351
‘Brings on his hoar brow roses, will he not
“Fill his broad hand with fruits?” and he began
In that sweet shaded bower of bliss to toy
Wantonly with the flowers, and kiss the leaves,
And charm the birds, who, wondering, gaz’d upon
His brilliant beauty, and, their hearts subdued
To his perfections, sung him thrilling songs
Of love and adoration. Pleas’d, he stay’d
Forgetting Phœbus at his fountain’s side,
Until the fruit, like Autumn’s regal brow,
Grew rich with golden hues, and forty suns
Arose and set on his abandonment!
Then he remember’d the forgotten will
Of his bright deity. As he was fair
As a young maid, so like a young maid, he
Was wily in his thought; a glossy snake
Of many glittering hues, but chiefly bright
In golden scales, near that fair fountain play’d.
He seiz’d the gorgeous prize, and rapidly
He bore it rustling through the air, unto
His master’s golden throne, and “see, O king
“Royal Apollo,” said the artful bird,
“The cause of my delay, for by the side
“Of thine own Hippocrene, this monster lay,
“And poison’d with his everlasting thirst
“The waters of thy stream; I dar’d not bring
“Of their bright waves for thee, till I had first
“Subdued the monster, who, till this proud hour,
“Radiant with triumph I could not o’ercome
“Thy fountain’s foe!”
“Fill his broad hand with fruits?” and he began
In that sweet shaded bower of bliss to toy
Wantonly with the flowers, and kiss the leaves,
And charm the birds, who, wondering, gaz’d upon
His brilliant beauty, and, their hearts subdued
To his perfections, sung him thrilling songs
Of love and adoration. Pleas’d, he stay’d
Forgetting Phœbus at his fountain’s side,
Until the fruit, like Autumn’s regal brow,
Grew rich with golden hues, and forty suns
Arose and set on his abandonment!
Then he remember’d the forgotten will
Of his bright deity. As he was fair
As a young maid, so like a young maid, he
Was wily in his thought; a glossy snake
Of many glittering hues, but chiefly bright
In golden scales, near that fair fountain play’d.
He seiz’d the gorgeous prize, and rapidly
He bore it rustling through the air, unto
His master’s golden throne, and “see, O king
“Royal Apollo,” said the artful bird,
“The cause of my delay, for by the side
“Of thine own Hippocrene, this monster lay,
“And poison’d with his everlasting thirst
“The waters of thy stream; I dar’d not bring
“Of their bright waves for thee, till I had first
“Subdued the monster, who, till this proud hour,
“Radiant with triumph I could not o’ercome
“Thy fountain’s foe!”
“Liar!” exclaim’d the god,
“The Python-killer, as from his keen eye
“The lightning darted. Me, wouldst thou deceive
“With such a wretched tale!—hence, hence!—begone.
“Black as thy falsehood fly through shuddering air,
“A bird of brooding night!—dumb be thy voice
“Of sweetest melody, henceforth thy cry
“Tell but of woes and horrors, a wild shriek
“The Python-killer, as from his keen eye
“The lightning darted. Me, wouldst thou deceive
“With such a wretched tale!—hence, hence!—begone.
“Black as thy falsehood fly through shuddering air,
“A bird of brooding night!—dumb be thy voice
“Of sweetest melody, henceforth thy cry
“Tell but of woes and horrors, a wild shriek
