Page:Atalanta in Calydon - a tragedy (IA atalantaincalydo00swinrich).pdf/27

 And one, the maiden rose of all thy maids, Arcadian Atalanta, snowy-souled, Fair as the snow and footed as the wind, From Ladon and well-wooded Mænalus Over the firm hills and the fleeting sea Hast thou drawn hither, and many an armed king, Heroes, the crown of men, like gods in fight. Moreover out of all the Ætolian land, From the full-flowered Lelantian pasturage To what of fruitful field the son of Zeus Won from the roaring river and labouring sea When the wild god shrank in his horn and fled And foamed and lessened through his wrathful fords Leaving clear lands that steamed with sudden sun, These virgins with the lightening of the day Bring thee fresh wreaths and their own sweeter hair, Luxurious locks and flower-like mixed with flowers, Clean offering, and chaste hymns; but me the time Divides from these things; whom do thou not less Help and give honour, and to mine hounds good speed, And edge to spears, and luck to each man’s hand.

When the hounds of spring are on winter’s traces, The mother of months in meadow or plain Fills the shadows and windy places With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain;