Literary Gazette, 8th February 1823, Page 91
HERCULES AND IOLE.
She held the cup; and he the while
Sat gazing on her playful smile,
As all the wine he wished to sip
Was one kiss from her rosebud lip.
Half leaning to him, half withdrawn,
Like one above the waters bending,
And blushing like the maiden dawn
Before the bridegroom sun's ascending—
The head a little turned aside,
Downcast the eyes, as if to hide
Beneath their black fringe, shadowy dim,
The glance which yet would steal to him—
Her hero love, Iole stood.
And the dark Chief had washed the blood
From his red hands, and thrown away
His arms, which there all useless lay,
As every trophy that he sought,
By time and toil and danger bought,
Were won in winning woman's sigh—
One glance from her bewildering eye.
His arms are round the graceful shape
As if he feared it could escape,
Guarding like life what is so dear—
All this is love's delicious fear—
And yet delaying ere he presses
That lip so soft, that cheek so bright,
As tho' the joy of those caresses
Would, like the burst of sudden light,
Be too much happiness. - - - There were
Warfare and danger, toil and care,
Even from earliest infancy,
Hero of sorrows! marked for thee;
But can they countervail the bliss
That lightens o'er an hour like this?
- signature after next poem