See, they return; ah, see the tentative
Movements, and the slow feet,
The trouble in the pace and the uncertain
Wavering!
See, they return, one, and by one,
With fear, as half-awakened;
As if the snow should hesitate
And murmur in the wind,
And half turn back;
These were the "Wing'd-with-Awe,"
Inviolable.
Gods of that wingèd shoe!
With them the silver hounds,
Sniffing the trace of air!
Haie! Haie!
These were the swift to harry;
These the keen-scented;
These were the souls of blood.
Slow on the leash,
Pallid the leash-men!