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 the 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!