The hounds, the hawk, her cares divide;
The loved caresses of the maid
The dogs with crouch and whimper paid;
And, at her whistle, on her hand
The falcon took his favorite stand,
Closed his dark wing, relax’d his eye,
Nor, though unhooded,[137] sought to fly.
And, trust, while in such guise she stood,
Like fabled goddess[138] of the wood,
That if a father’s partial thought