ACTÆON.
“He saw her charming, but he saw not half
The charms her downcast modesty concealed.”
—Thomson.
ACTÆON, with the winding horn,
Pursued the Chase in ardent youth
And what he wore when he was born;
(And little else, to tell the truth,
For in those days of which I speak
They just changed sandals once a week!)
And as he wandered from the path,
Chanced on Diana in her bath.
All trembling, like a startled fawn,
Upstarted then the Goddess chaste,
Sprang from the pool the bank upon
And donned her crescent in great haste,
(For, to her credit be it said,
She did wear something on her head,)
Then, the conventions satisfied
Gazed on Actæon, haughty-eyed.
Actæon tumbled in a trice
That he had got himself in Dutch,
But thought if quite polite and nice
She would not mind the thing so much.
So the poor fool in this fond hope
Said, “Tell me, did you use Pear’s Soap?”
Diana, vexed to hear the gag,
Forthwith made Actæon a stag.
The Moral is, if you should chance
Upon a lady in the nude,
Remember this sad circumstance,
For she’ll get even if you’re rude;
And conversation, if uncouth,
May cost you dear in naked truth!