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 wingd 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!