Diana

Star of the buskined goddess ! chastely shining
Among the highborn children of the skies !
Thou'rt like the stolen glance of bashful eyes,
Making love, fear ; and timidly divining
From half-breathed words the wish they dare not know.
Thou loveliest light that steals down from above !
And could'st thou tell young feeling not to love
Thy spirit-kindling smile ? It is as though
The rose should whisper that she is not fair,
And scorn the amorous night-bird's vesper-prayer ;
It is as if the summer wind should blow
Delayed with fragrance, and in pride declare
It breathes no sweetness. Beauty loves thy ray,
Fair star ! for thou dost tremble in the sky
As if in fear lest some unholy eye
Should mock with wanton glance thy stainless way !