Niobe

Amid nine daughters slain by Artemis
Stood Niobe : she rais'd her head above
Those beauteous forms which had brought down the scath
Whence all nine fell, rais'd it, and stood erect.
And thus bespake the Goddess enthroned on high.
" Thou heardest, Artemis, my daily prayer
That thou wouldst guide these children in the
Of virtue, through the tangling wilds of youth,
And thou didst ever guide them : was it just
To smite them for a beauty such as thine ?
Deserv'd they death because thy grace appear'd
In every modest motion ? 'twas thy gift.
The richest gift that youth from heaven receives.
True, I did boldly say they might compare
Even with thyself in virgin purity :
May not a mother in her pride repeat
What every mortal said ?

One prayer remains
For me to offer yet.

Thy quiver holds
More than nine arrows : bend thy bow : aim here,
I see, I see it glimmering through a cloud.
Artemis thou at length art merciful.
My children will not hear the fatal twang."