"Behold, such mercy Atalanta gives

To those that long to win her loveliness;

Be wise! be sure that many a maid there lives
Gentler than she, of beauty little less,

Whose swimming eyes thy loving words shall bless,
When in some garden, knee set close to knee,
Thou sing'st the song that love may teach to thee."

So to the hunter spake that ancient man,
And left him for his own home presently:

But he turned round, and through the moonlight wan
Reached the thick wood, and there'twixt tree and tree
Distraught he passed the long night feverishly,
'Twixt sleep and waking, and at dawn arose
To wage hot war against his speechless foes.

There to the hart's flank seemed his shaft to grow, As panting down the broad green glades he flew, There by his horn the Dryads well might know His thrust against the bear's heart had been true, And there Adonis' bane his javelin slew,

But still in vain through rough and smooth he went, For none the more his restlessness was spent.

So wandering, he to Argive cities came,
And in the lists with valiant men he stood,
And by great deeds he won him praise and fame,
And heaps of wealth for little-valued blood;
But none of all these things, or life, seemed good
Unto his heart, where still unsatisfied

A ravenous longing warred with fear and pride.

Therefore it happed when but a month had gone Since he had left King Schoneus' city old,

In hunting-gear again, again alone

The forest-bordered meads did he behold,

Where still 'mid thoughts of August's quivering gold Folk hoed the wheat, and clipped the vine in trust Of faint October's purple-foaming must.

And once again he passed the peaceful gate,
While to his beating heart his lips did lie,
That owning not victorious love and fate,
Said, half aloud, "And here, too, must I try,
To win of alien men the mastery,

And gather for my head fresh meed of fame
And cast new glory on my father's name."

In spite of that, how beat his heart, when first Folk said to him, "And art thou come to see That which still makes our city's name accurst Among all mothers for its cruelty?

Then know indeed that fate is good to thee
Because to-morrow a new luckless one
Against the whitefoot maid is pledged to run."

So on the morrow with no curious eyes
As once he did, that piteous sight he saw,
Nor did that wonder in his heart arise

As toward the goal the conquering maid 'gan draw,
Nor did he gaze upon her eyes with awe,
Too full the pain of longing filled his heart
For fear or wonder there to have a part.

But O, how long the night was ere it went! How long it was before the dawn begun Showed to the wakening birds the sun's intent That not in darkness should the world be done! And then, and then, how long before the sun Bade silently the toilers of the earth

Get forth to fruitless cares or empty mirth!

And long it seemed that in the market-place He stood and saw the chaffering folk go by, Ere from the ivory throne King Schoneus' face Looked down upon the murmur royally,

But then came trembling that the time was nigh When he midst pitying looks his love must claim, And jeering voices must salute his name.

But as the throng he pierced to gain the throne, His alien face distraught and anxious told What hopeless errand he was bound upon, And, each to each, folk whispered to behold His god-like limbs; nay, and one woman old As he went by must pluck him by the sleeve And pray him yet that wretched love to leave.

For sidling up she said, "Canst thou live twice, Fair son? canst thou have joyful youth again, That thus thou goest to the sacrifice Thyself the victim? nay then, all in vain Thy mother bore her longing and her pain, And one more maiden on the earth must dwell Hopeless of joy, nor fearing death and hell.

"O, fool, thou knowest not the compact then That with the three-formed goddess she has made To keep her from the loving lips of men, And in no saffron gown to be arrayed, And therewithal with glory to be paid, And love of her the moonlit river sees

White 'gainst the shadow of the formless trees.

"Come back, and I myself will pray for thee
Unto the sea-born framer of delights,
To give thee her who on the earth may be
The fairest stirrer up to death and fights,
To quench with hopeful days and joyous nights
The flame that doth thy youthful heart consume:
Come back, nor give thy beauty to the tomb."

How should he listen to her earnest speech?
Words, such as he not once or twice had said
Unto himself, whose meaning scarce could reach
The firm abode of that sad hardihead-

He turned about, and through the marketstead
Swiftly he passed, until before the throne

In the cleared space he stood at last alone.

Then said the King, "Stranger, what dost thou here? Have any of my folk done ill to thee?

Or art thou of the forest men in fear?

Or art thou of the sad fraternity

Who still will strive my daughter's mates to be,

Staking their lives to win to earthly bliss

The lonely maid, the friend of Artemis?"

"O King," he said, "thou sayest the word indeed; Nor will I quit the strife till I have won

My sweet delight, or death to end my need.
And know that I am called Milanion,

Of King Amphidamas the well-loved son:
So fear not that to thy old name, O King,
Much loss or shame my victory will bring."

"Nay, Prince," said Schoneus, "welcome to this land Thou wert indeed, if thou wert here to try Thy strength 'gainst some one mighty of his hand; Nor would we grudge the well-won mastery. But now, why wilt thou come to me to die, And at my door lay down thy luckless head, Swelling the band of the unhappy dead,

"Whose curses even now my heart doth fear?
Lo, I am old, and know what life can be,
And what a bitter thing is death anear.
O Son! be wise, and hearken unto me,
And if no other can be dear to thee,

At least as now, yet is the world full wide,
And bliss in seeming hopeless hearts may hide :

"But if thou losest life, then all is lost." "Nay, King," Milanion said, "thy words are vain. Doubt not that I have counted well the cost. But say, on what day wilt thou that I gain Fulfilled delight, or death to end my pain? Right glad were I if it could be to-day, And all my doubts at rest for ever lay."