With that sprang forth a naked swain;
With spotted wings like peacock's train,
And laughing lope to a tree;
His gilden quiver at his back,
And silver bow, which was but slack,
Which lightly he bent at me:
That seeing, I levell'd again,
And shot at him with might and main,
As thick as it had hailed.
So long I shot, that all was spent;