Lamia | Page 9

thou ruthless man!

Turn them aside, wretch! or the righteous ban
Of all the Gods, whose
dreadful images
Here represent their shadowy presences,
May
pierce them on the sudden with the thorn
Of painful blindness;
leaving thee forlorn,
In trembling dotage to the feeblest fright
Of
conscience, for their long offended might,
For all thine impious
proud-heart sophistries,
Unlawful magic, and enticing lies.

Corinthians! look upon that gray-beard wretch!
Mark how, possess'd,
his lashless eyelids stretch
Around his demon eyes! Corinthians, see!

My sweet bride withers at their potency."
"Fool!" said the sophist,
in an under-tone
Gruff with contempt; which a death-nighing moan

From Lycius answer'd, as heart-struck and lost,
He sank supine
beside the aching ghost.
"Fool! Fool!" repeated he, while his eyes still

Relented not, nor mov'd; "from every ill
Of life have I preserv'd
thee to this day,
And shall I see thee made a serpent's prey?"
Then
Lamia breath'd death breath; the sophist's eye,
Like a sharp spear,
went through her utterly,
Keen, cruel, perceant, stinging: she, as well

As her weak hand could any meaning tell,
Motion'd him to be
silent; vainly so,
He look'd and look'd again a level - No!
"A
Serpent!" echoed he; no sooner said,
Than with a frightful scream she
vanished:
And Lycius' arms were empty of delight,
As were his
limbs of life, from that same night.
On the high couch he lay! - his
friends came round
Supported him - no pulse, or breath they found,

And, in its marriage robe, the heavy body wound.
The Project Gutenberg Etext of Lamia, by John Keats[Poetry/Poem]
from http://www.dertz.in/