The Sphinx

Beneath Cithaeron's briery flank is made
A rock-ribbed den, to blaze resplendent there,
With golden eyes and breast divinely fair,
The virgin eagle-winged whom none has swayed.

The Man stops at the threshold dazed.—What shade
Makes gloomier still my cavern's gloomy air?
—Love.—Art the God?—The Hero, I.—Then dare;
But thou seek'st death; canst now be unafraid?—

I can; Bellerophon slew the monster dire.
—Come not.—Thou know'st my mouth sets thine on fire.
—Come, then! Between mine arms thy bones I'll maim,

My talons tear thy flesh ... —What's agony,
If I have raped thy kiss and conquered fame?
—Thy conquest's vain, thou diest.—O ecstasy!...