Charles Anthony Dickens
The Huntress (Artemis) Or On The Wings Of Diana - Poem by Charles Anthony Dickens
She sat before me blazing eyes of sapphire
And drew me to her soft and gentle ways
With ivory skin she led me to her temple
And promised me the nectar of her days.
I fell beneath her spell that azure evening
Of jasmine scented air upon the breeze
Spell-bound by hypnotic thoughts of rapture
She pulled me in with undemanding ease
This Goddess had me any way she wanted
And I, a willing partner to her quest
Could not have stopped it even if I’d wanted
But threw myself unto her milky breast
We flew on Zephyrs wings ‘cross starlit heavens,
More beautiful than words could ever say.
With sweetest wines that tongues have ever tasted
She fed me pure ambrosia all the way
On Zeus’s throne she surveyed Mount Olympus
And held me safe behind Athena’s shield
Then sped me through the underworld of Hades
And promised me the sweet Elysian Fields.
Deep into Sirens waters we adventured
And rode white horses on Poseidon’s wave.
Whilst by the lyre of Orpheus both protected,
She held me from a certain watery grave.
This Odyssey with perilous intention
A mortal trod where Gods would only dare,
But never did my conscience once occasion
The terror that was so engendered there.
Through ancient and majestic marble palaces
This goddess of the moon bestrode their walls.
And I; a single earthly mortal creature:
Walked with her, across those ancient halls.
She fed me so, that I became addicted;
Returned me proudly to her native shore.
Then left me all alone in sweet remembrance
Outside the great Ephesian temple Door
Attended by her nymphs so closely guarded
She sits abroad her royal and rightful throne,
And Nemesis the great Goddess of vengeance
So cruelly left me standing there alone.
The Goddess who had loved me so intensely
Turned merciless and callous and unkind
Remorseless in her path of disaffection
Our hearts remain forever disentwined
Now, in my sleepless dreams I still embrace her
And hear Aurora murmur to the sea
I wonder if within that whispering tempest
The huntress holds a tender thought of me?
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