Psyche, and other poems — page 138: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

e 120 More sweet than health’s fresh bloom the wan hue seemed ye ial Me aD Which sat upon her pallid cheek ; her eye, Her placid eye, with dove-like softness beamed ; Her head unshielded from the pitiless sky, Loose to the rude wild blast her tresses fly, Bare were her feet which prest the shelly shore With firm unshrinking step; while smilingly She eyes the dashing billows as they roar, And braves the boistereus storms so oft endured before. 4 Long had she there in silent sorrow dwelt, And many a year resigned to grief had known; Spleen’s cruel insolence she oft had felt, But never would the haughty tyrant own, | Nor heed the darts which, from a distance thrown, ~ Screened by her cavern she could safely shun; The thorny brakes she trod for food alone, Drank the cold stream which near the grotto run, And bore the winter’s frosts and scorching summer’s sun. In early youth, exchanging mutual vows, Courage had wooed and. won his lovely bride ; Tossed on those stormy seas, her daring spouse From her fond arms the cruel waves divide, And dashed her fainting on that rock’s rough side. Still hope she keeps, and still her constant heart Expects to hail with each returning tide His dear remembered bark; hence can no art From those unlovely scenes induce her to depart. , ComichooksTeom ;