Penny Dreadfuls, 1812 · page 148 of 258
Psyche, and other poems — page 148: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# Page 130 of a Victorian Penny Dreadful This is a page of running verse narrative, numbered 130, continuing a serialized story. The text describes Psyche and a knight departing by boat from shore. As they travel, Psyche's initial joy fades into languid weariness; the atmosphere grows cold and misty. A character named Hymen, apparently experienced with these waters, awakens in alarm and cries out a warning to the knight about dangerous territory ahead—specifically a place called Petrea ruled by someone named Glacella, whose "chilling voice" he claims to hear, speaking of despair. The passage employs Gothic atmosphere and melodramatic language typical of penny dreadful sensational fiction.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
130 With light exulting heart glad Psyche sees — Their rapid progress as they quit the shore : Yet weary languor steals by slow degrees Upon her tranquil mind; she joys no more The never changing scene to wander o’er With still admiring eye; the enchanting song Yields not that lively charm it knew before, When first enraptured by his tuneful tongue She bade her vocal knight the heavenly strain prolong. — A damp chill mist now deadens all the air, A drowsy dullness seems o’er all to creep, No more the heavens their smile of brightness wear, The winds are hushed, while the dim glassy deep Oppressed by sluggish vapours seems to sleep ; See his light scarf the knight o’er Psyche throws, Solicitous his lovely charge to keep » From still increasing cold; while deep repose Benumbs each torpid sense and bids her eye-lids close. Now as with languid stroke they ply the oars, While the dense fog obscures their gloomy way ; Hymen, well used to coast these dangerous shores, Roused from the dreaming trance in which he lay, Cries to the knight in voice of dread dismay, a ‘Steer hence thy bark, oh! yet in time,beware ; “‘ Here lies Petrea, which with baneful sway “* Glacella rules, I feel the dank cold air, “‘Y hear her chilling voice, methinks it speaks despair !”” CORDIC OOOKS: CORN