3i8 popular tales OF FLOWERS 
entrance was concealed under masses of rugged under- 
wood, while all around stretched an impenetrable barrier 
of gorse bushes, their sharp-pointed spears half hidden 
by the deep gold of the blossoms with which they were 
overhung. As a bird bears the feathered seed in its beak, 
even so lightly did Love fly along, enclosing the beautiful 
Psyche in his embrace, while her white arm was twined, 
as if for security, around his neck. 
A score of times was she about to raise her eyes and 
look into his face, when she recalled the doom of death 
which she knew she must endure; and as she remembered 
the fiat of the Thunderer, she clung more closely to Love, 
and embraced more firmly the divinity that clasped her 
in his arms. Once only did she catch a glimpse of his 
countenance as they passed over a clear stream; and al- 
though it was but a momentary glance, she saw in it a 
beauty which belonged not to earth, and she knew that 
it was an immortal who loved her. 
For many a day did Love and Psyche dwell together 
in that beautiful cavern, which was roofed with silver 
spars, and paved with the choicest flowers ; while all 
around were piled twisted and crimson shells, and huge 
pearls, fust as they had grown; and diamonds that, in 
Love’s absence, threw around a light brighter than day. 
Still Psyche was unhappy, for she had not yet looked into 
her lover’s face. 
Clear-mirrored, at the end of the grotto stood a foun- 
tain, smooth and bright as glass ; if she held but one of 
her silken hairs in her fingers it was reflected back, and 
in it she could see her own face in the beaded pupils of 
her matchless eyes. Beside the fountain stretched a bed 
of golden-coloured moss ; and as she had long before 
persuaded Love not to withdraw the light when he was 
present, so did she now entice him to repose upon the 
golden moss, where she could see his image reflected in 
the basin of the fountain, without drawing upon herself 
the doom of death. 
And now she could gaze upon him for hours, with her 
eyes bent downwards in that clear mirror; while he was 
so enraptured with her matchless beauty that his glance 
but seldom wandered from her sweet countenance. And 
so imprinted were his features upon her memory that on 
