To Diana

Most graceful goddess! — whether now thou art
Hunting the dun deer in the silent heart
Of some old, quiet wood, or on the side
Of some high mountain, and, most eager-eyed,
Dashing upon the chase, with bended bow
And arrow at the string, and with a glow
Of wondrous beauty on thy cheek, and feet
Like thine own silver moon — yea, and as fleet
As her best beams — and quiver at the back,
Rattling to all thy steppings; if some track
In distant Thessaly thou followest up,
Brushing the dews from many a flower-cup
And quiet leaf, and listening to the bay
Of thy good hounds, while in the deep woods they,
Strong-limb'd and swift, leap on with eager bounds,
And with their long, deep note each hill resounds,
Making thee music: — goddess, hear our cry,
And let us worship thee, while far and high
Goes up thy brother — while his light is full
Upon the earth; for, when the night- winds lull
The world to sleep, then to the lightless sky
Dian must go, with silver robes of dew,
And sunward eye.
Perhaps thou liest on some shady spot
Among the trees, while frighten'd beasts hear not
The deep bay of thy hounds; but, dropping down
Upon green grass, and leaves all sere and brown,
Thou pillowest thy delicate head upon
Some ancient mossy root, where wood-winds run
Wildly about thee, and thy fair nymphs point
Thy death- wing'd arrows, or thy hair anoint
With Lydian odours, and thy strong hounds lie
Lazily on the earth, and watch thine eye,
And watch thine arrows, while thou hast a dream.
Perchance, in some deep-bosom'd, shaded stream
Thou battiest now, where even thy brother sun
Cannot look on thee — where dark shades and dun
Fall on the water, making it most cool,
Like winds from the broad sea, or like some pool
In deep, dark cavern: hanging branches dip
Their locks into the stream, or slowly drip
With tear-drops of rich dew: before no eyes
But those of flitting wind-gods, each nymph hies
Into the deep, cool, running stream, and there
Thou pillowest thyself upon its breast,
O queen, most fair!
By all thine hours of pleasure — when thou wast
Upon tall Latmos, moveless, still, and lost
In boundless pleasure, ever gazing on
Thy bright-eyed youth, whether the unseen sun
Was lighting the deep sea, or at mid-noon
Careering through the sky — by every tune
And voice of joy that thrill'd about the chords
Of thy deep heart, when thou didst hear his words
In that cool, shady grot, where thou hadst brought
And placed Endymion; where fair hands had taught
All beauty to shine forth; where thy fair maids
Had brought up shells for thee, and from the glades
All sunny flowers, with precious stones and gems
Of utmost beauty, pearly diadems
Of many sea-gods; birds were there, that sang
Ever most sweetly; living waters rang
Their changes to all time, to soothe the soul
Of thy Endymion; pleasant breezes stole
With light feet through the cave, that they might kiss
His dewy lips; — O, by those hours of bliss
That thou didst then enjoy, come to us, fair
And beautiful Diana — take us now
Under thy care!