Psyche

Softly, with palpitating heart,She came to where he lay concealed apart.The lamp she held intensified the gloom,And in the dusk wrought shadowy shapes of doom.

Her starry eyesO'er-brimmed with troubled tears,Her pulses throbbing wildly in her ears,She stood beside him where he layHushed in the deepOf sweet unconscious sleep.But as she stifled back her sighsAnd tried to look upon that cherished form,Remembrance shook her purpose warm,And, chiding, seemed to say,—"Why seek to solve, why, curious, thus destroyThe mystery of joy?What doubt unblest, what faithless fear is this,Which tempts to paths none may retrace,Which moves thee—fond one!—to unveil the faceOf bliss?Is 't not enough to feel it thine?Like Semele, would'st gaze on the Divine?Secret the soul of Rapture dwells;Love gives, yet jealous tests repelsNor will of force be known,And bashful Beauty, viewed too near—is gone."