"————Who first told how Psyche went
On the smooth wind to realms of wonderment?
What Psyche felt, and Love, when their full lips
First touched; * * * *
* * * With all their sighs
And how they kist each other's tremulous eyes:
The silver lamp—the ravishment—the wonder—
The darkness—loneliness, and fearful thunder."
Keats.
But the happiness which had fallen to the lot of the beautiful Psyche, was too delightful and too pure, not to meet with something which should realize the after thought of the poet, that "the course of true love never did run smooth." The restless nature of the nymph would not allow her to remain quietly in possession or her beautiful lot, or in the enchanted place which the power of the God had raised for her, though few could be so delightful, when,