and cold hills
  Full of the land-wind and sea-travelling storms
  And many a wandering wing of noisy nights
  That know the thunder and hear the thickening wolves—­
  Me the utmost pine and footless frost of woods
  That talk with many winds and gods, the hours
  Re-risen, and white divisions of the dawn,
  Springs thousand-tongued with the intermitting reed
  And streams that murmur of the mother snow—­
  Me these allure, and know me; but no man
  Knows, and my goddess only.  Lo now, see
  If one of all you these things vex at all. 
  Would God that any of you had all the praise
  And I no manner of memory when I die,
  So might I show before her perfect eyes
  Pure, whom I follow, a maiden to my death. 
  But for the rest let all have all they will;
  For is it a grief to you that I have part,
  Being woman merely, in your male might and deeds
  Done by main strength? yet in my body is throned
  As great a heart, and in my spirit, O men,
  I have not less of godlike.  Evil it were
  That one a coward should mix with you, one hand
  Fearful, one eye abase itself; and these
  Well might ye hate and well revile, not me. 
  For not the difference of the several flesh
  Being vile or noble or beautiful or base
  Makes praiseworthy, but purer spirit and heart
  Higher than these meaner mouths and limbs, that feed,
  Rise, rest, and are and are not; and for me,
  What should I say? but by the gods of the world
  And this my maiden body, by all oaths
  That bind the tongue of men and the evil will,
  I am not mighty-minded, nor desire
  Crowns, nor the spoil of slain things nor the fame;
  Feed ye on these, eat and wax fat, cry out,
  Laugh, having eaten, and leap without a lyre,
  Sing, mix the wind with clamour, smite and shake
  Sonorous timbrels and tumultuous hair,
  And fill the dance up with tempestuous feet,
  For I will none; but having prayed my prayers
  And made thank-offering for prosperities,
  I shall go hence and no man see me more. 
  What thing is this for you to shout me down,
  What, for a man to grudge me this my life
  As it were envious of all yours, and I
  A thief of reputations? nay, for now,
  If there be any highest in heaven, a god
  Above all thrones and thunders of the gods
  Throned, and the wheel of the world roll under him,
  Judge he between me and all of you, and see
  It I transgress at all:  but ye, refrain
  Transgressing hands and reinless mouths, and keep
  Silence, lest by much foam of violent words
  And proper poison of your lips ye die.

  Oeneus.

  O flower of Tegea, maiden, fleetest foot
  And holiest head of women, have good cheer
  Of thy good words:  but ye, depart with her
  In peace and reverence, each with blameless eye
  Following his fate; exalt your hands and hearts,
  Strike, cease not, arrow on arrow and wound on wound,
  And go with gods and with the gods return.