Fair daughter of great Jupiter, she stood—
Eyes fix’d upon the ground—in pensive mood;
Her bow, her quiver, deer-skin on her breast,
Distinctly pointed her from out the rest.
Poor Actæon (youth, most skilful with the bow—
Whose eyes betray’d him, and led on to woe)
Beheld, by chance, the goddess in the lake;
Dreamt not his own existence was at stake;
But in an instant Fate, with double wrath,
Transform’d into a stag th’ incautious youth;