Under the moon? The fury of despair
Raged in the breast of heaven’s Almighty Lord;
He gnashed his foamy teeth and rolled and roared
In bull-like agony. Then a great calm
Descended on him: cool and healing balm
Touched his immortal fury. He had spied
Young Leda where she stood, poised on the river-side.
Even as she broke the river’s smooth expanse,
Leda was conscious of that hungry glance,
And knew it for an eye of fearful power