Diana steps soft in dew-jeweled night,
a careful watch she keeps:
a careful watch she keeps:
her creatures ensconced in forest beds,
shepherds and their sheep.
shepherds and their sheep.
Riding high on velvet strides,
she bades her women mind
she bades her women mind
to wash themselves in secret springs,
to hide from prying eyes.
to hide from prying eyes.
But her admonitions quickly fall astray
beneath the shaded trees–
beneath the shaded trees–
for bashful dryads with oak crowns made
whisper soft among the leaves.
whisper soft among the leaves.
Voices low, chorus sweet,
they beckon all to dream–
they beckon all to dream–
Endymion smiles in his sleep,
his face with light agleam.
his face with light agleam.
Mistress gone from her sacred grove,
a furtive dance they weave,
a furtive dance they weave,
night air warm on supple limbs,
movements so serene.
movements so serene.
Dance, they sing, dance and dream:
a shepherd’s serenade,
a shepherd’s serenade,
moonlight warm on naked backs,
shadows lilting along the glade.
shadows lilting along the glade.
Dance, they sing, dance and dream
this secret reverie.
this secret reverie.
We’ve charmed the stars to look away
until Diana comes to see.
until Diana comes to see.
As the dryads dance, the shepherds trance,
their breathing soft and slow:
their breathing soft and slow:
among dryadic dreams they are lost at sea,
spilling pennyroyal as they go.
spilling pennyroyal as they go.
Far afield across the night
Diana walks slow on dusted feet,
Diana walks slow on dusted feet,
sending silver arrows through the air
on night wind long and sleek.
on night wind long and sleek.
She travels steadfast in the west,
burning footpaths between the stars,
burning footpaths between the stars,
recalling long ago how a forest lad
frostbit her youthful heart.
frostbit her youthful heart.
Stern of face and with sterner breast
she’d spurned the loving arts—
she’d spurned the loving arts—
but even she is warmed by songs
on the waning wind, joyful in the dark.
on the waning wind, joyful in the dark.
She steps softly in the dew-jeweled dawn,
dreaming dryads at her feet.
dreaming dryads at her feet.
Beneath the misty breath of lovers gone
her forest slowly sleeps.
her forest slowly sleeps.
She kisses all but will never tell
what Dawn’s rosy fingers reach:
what Dawn’s rosy fingers reach:
dryads in their bower beds,
shepherds still asleep.
shepherds still asleep.
She smiles a knowing smile now,
tired but replete.
tired but replete.
The only traces left of dancing nymphs
will be in Endymion’s fading dreams.
will be in Endymion’s fading dreams.
