Through the water-eye of night,
     Midway between eve and dawn,
     See the chase, the rout, the flight
     In deep forest; oread, faun,
     Goat-foot, antlers laid on neck;
     Ravenous all the line for speed. 
     See yon wavy sparkle beck
     Sign of the Virgin Lady’s lead. 
     Down her course a serpent star
     Coils and shatters at her heels;
     Peals the horn exulting, peals
     Plaintive, is it near or far. 
     Huntress, arrowy to pursue,
     In and out of woody glen,
     Under cliffs that tear the blue,
     Over torrent, over fen,
     She and forest, where she skims
     Feathery, darken and relume: 
     Those are her white-lightning limbs
     Cleaving loads of leafy gloom. 
     Mountains hear her and call back,
     Shrewd with night:  a frosty wail
     Distant:  her the emerald vale
     Folds, and wonders in her track. 
     Now her retinue is lean,
     Many rearward; streams the chase
     Eager forth of covert; seen
     One hot tide the rapturous race. 
     Quiver-charged and crescent-crowned,
     Up on a flash the lighted mound
     Leaps she, bow to shoulder, shaft
     Strung to barb with archer’s craft,
     Legs like plaited lyre-chords, feet
     Songs to see, past pitch of sweet. 
     Fearful swiftness they outrun,
     Shaggy wildness, grey or dun,
     Challenge, charge of tusks elude: 
     Theirs the dance to tame the rude;
     Beast, and beast in manhood tame,
     Follow we their silver flame. 
     Pride of flesh from bondage free,
     Reaping vigour of its waste,
     Marks her servitors, and she
     Sanctifies the unembraced. 
     Nought of perilous she reeks;
     Valour clothes her open breast;
     Sweet beyond the thrill of sex;
     Hallowed by the sex confessed. 
     Huntress arrowy to pursue,
     Colder she than sunless dew,
     She, that breath of upper air;
     Ay, but never lyrist sang,
     Draught of Bacchus never sprang
     Blood the bliss of Gods to share,
     High o’er sweep of eagle wings,
     Like the run with her, when rings
     Clear her rally, and her dart,
     In the forest’s cavern heart,
     Tells of her victorious aim. 
     Then is pause and chatter, cheer,
     Laughter at some satyr lame,
     Looks upon the fallen deer,
     Measuring his noble crest;
     Here a favourite in her train,
     Foremost mid her nymphs, caressed;
     All applauded.  Shall she reign
     Worshipped?  O to be with her there! 
     She, that breath of nimble air,
     Lifts the breast to giant power. 
     Maid and man, and man and maid,
     Who each other would devour
     Elsewhere, by the chase betrayed,
     There are comrades, led by her,
     Maid-preserver, man-maker.