And pitilessly with triumphant look
She drank the flattery, and gave full trust;
And leaving Psyche ere she more could tell,
Ran off to bid her spouse for aye farewell,
And in his ear this ready lie she thrust:
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‘My dearest sister Psyche, she whose fate
We mourn’d, hath reappear’d alive and hale,
But brings sad news; my father dies: full late
These tidings come, but love may yet avail;