Her green soft virginal shoot

[Pg 11]

Was plucked from the stream-side cover

By the grasp of a love like death.

For a God's was the mouth that kissed her

[Str. 5.

Who speaks, and the leaves lie dead,

When winter awakes as at warning

210

To the sound of his foot from Thrace.

Nor happier the bed of her sister

Though Love's self laid her abed

By a bridegroom beloved of the morning

And fair as the dawn's own face.

[Ant. 5.

For Procris, ensnared and ensnaring

By the fraud of a twofold wile,

With the point of her own spear stricken

By the gift of her own hand fell.

Oversubtle in doubts, overdaring

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