To A Lady At A Spring

Long aeons since, in leafy woodlands sweet, Diana, weary with the eager chase, Was wont to seek full oft some trysting-place Loved of her rosy train; some cool retreat Of crystal springs, deep-verdured from the heat Of sultry noon, wherein each subtle grace Of snowy form and radiant flower-face, Narcissus-like, goddess and nymph might greet. Diana long hath fleeted 'yond the main; The founts which erst she loved are all bereft; No more 'mid violet-banks her feet are set; Silent her silvern bugle, fled her train; One spot alone of all she loved is left: This poplar-shaded spring is Goddess-haunted yet.