the young bark fresh

till the spring cast

from off its shoulders

the white snow

so does my armour melt.

Love that I bear

within my heart, O speak;

tell how beneath the serpent-spotted shell,

the cygnets wait,

how the soft owl

opens and flicks with pride,

eye-lids of great bird-eyes,

when underneath its breast

the owlets shrink and turn.

[41]

You have the power,

(then did she say) Artemis,

benignity to grant

forgiveness that I gave

no quarter to an enemy who cast

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