and day
  Late risen and long sought after, and you just gods
  Whose hands divide anguish and recompense,
  But first the sun’s white sister, a maid in heaven,
  On earth of all maids worshipped—­hail, and hear,
  And witness with me if not without sign sent,
  Not without rule and reverence, I a maid
  Hallowed, and huntress holy as whom I serve,
  Here in your sight and eyeshot of these men
  Stand, girt as they toward hunting, and my shafts
  Drawn; wherefore all ye stand up on my side,
  If I be pure and all ye righteous gods,
  Lest one revile me, a woman, yet no wife,
  That bear a spear for spindle, and this bow strung
  For a web woven; and with pure lips salute
  Heaven, and the face of all the gods, and dawn
  Filling with maiden flames and maiden flowers
  The starless fold o’ the stars, and making sweet
  The warm wan heights of the air, moon-trodden ways
  And breathless gates and extreme hills of heaven. 
  Whom, having offered water and bloodless gifts,
  Flowers, and a golden circlet of pure hair,
  Next Artemis I bid be favourable
  And make this day all golden, hers and ours,
  Gracious and good and white to the unblamed end. 
  But thou, O well-beloved, of all my days
  Bid it be fruitful, and a crown for all,
  To bring forth leaves and bind round all my hair
  With perfect chaplets woven for thine of thee. 
  For not without the word of thy chaste mouth,
  For not without law given and clean command,
  Across the white straits of the running sea
  From Elis even to the Acheloian horn,
  I with clear winds came hither and gentle gods,
  Far off my father’s house, and left uncheered
  Iasius, and uncheered the Arcadian hills
  And all their green-haired waters, and all woods
  Disconsolate, to hear no horn of mine
  Blown, and behold no flash of swift white feet.

  Meleager.

  For thy name’s sake and awe toward thy chaste head,
  O holiest Atalanta, no man dares
  Praise thee, though fairer than whom all men praise,
  And godlike for thy grace of hallowed hair
  And holy habit of thine eyes, and feet
  That make the blown foam neither swift nor white
  Though the wind winnow and whirl it; yet we praise
  Gods, found because of thee adorable
  And for thy sake praiseworthiest from all men: 
  Thee therefore we praise also, thee as these,
  Pure, and a light lit at the hands of gods.

  Toxeus.

  How long will ye whet spears with eloquence,
  Fight, and kill beasts dry-handed with sweet words? 
  Cease, or talk still and slay thy boars at home.

  Plexippus.

  Why, if she ride among us for a man,
  Sit thou for her and spin; a man grown girl
  Is worth a woman weaponed; sit thou here.

  Meleager.

  Peace, and be wise; no gods love idle speech.