Classic Poem

As these wood-odors every place rise o'er,
Thy nostrils wide dilate, thou huntress bright,
And in thy virginal and virile might,
Thy locks thrown back, thou settest out once more.

And now with leopards' hoarse, incessant roar
Thou mak'st Ortygia's isle resound till night,
As through the orgies' reek thou leapest light,
Where mangled hounds imbrue the grass with gore.

But most thou joyest, Goddess, when the brier
Bites thee, and tooth or claw tears with fell ire
Thy glorious arms whose shaft revenge has ta'en;

For thy heart would the cruel sweetness dare
Of mingling an immortal purple there
With black and hideous blood of monsters slain.