Classic Poem

Queen-Beauty of the Night—pale and alone—
Eye not so coldly Love's brief happiness;
But look as once when thou didst leave thy throne,
In garb and gait a sylvan hunteress,
And with bright, buskined limbs, through dew and flowers,
Lightly, on sprightly feet and agile, bounded,
With fawn-like leaps, among the Latmian bowers;
While the wide dome of farthest heaven resounded
With the shrill shouts of thee and thy nymph-rovers,
When the hard chace of victory was won,
And changed Actæon by his hounds was torn.
But then thou hadst not seen Endymion,
Nor knew the pain and coldness of his scorn;—
Yet, if thy love was dear to thee, be dear to lovers!