Pillow’d for sleep, with fragrant linen fine;
One, were she hungry, had a table spread
Like as the high gods have it when they dine:
Or, would she bathe, were those would heat the bath;
The joyous cries contending in her path,
Psyche, they said, What wilt thou? all is thine.
12
Then Psyche would have thank’d their service true,
But that she fear’d her echoing words might scare
Those sightless tongues; and well by dream she knew