Psyche, and other poems — page 81: what you’re looking at

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

65 Meanwhile the dove had soared above their reach, But hovered still in anxious Psyche’ s sight, Precursor of escape, it seemed to teach Whither she safest might direct her flight, And find a passport in her foes’ despite ; One rugged path there lay with briars o’ergrown, Then dark and dismal with the shades of night, Thither the dove on wrapped wing had flown, Conspicuous mid the gloom its silver plumage shone. Yet she delayed, o’ercome by terror’s power, _ And scarce her fainting form the knight could shield, ‘ When lo! still active in the trying hour, Constance rushed fearless through the dreadful field, With breast-plate firm invulnerably steeled, He heeded not the storms which round him press, To any perils he disdained to yield, Endued with prudence as with hardiness, And ever skilled to bring due succour ir distress. ~ Lo! swift returning on his master’s steed, in his right hand he held the hon’s chain, The mighty beast his gentleness could lead, Though little used to bear the curb or rein, And mid those groves accustomed to remain, Yet now prepared, with sweet submissive grace, He ready stands the knight to bear again, While trembling Psyche on the steed they place, Which swiftas lightning flies far from the dreadful chase. G& Connicloooks.comn