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In savage knots; and that bright zone of her's,
Which held her virgin bosom in its clip,
Was made to serve the outrage, and strapped fast
Her hands to the hard trunk. Nay, even the tree
Itself was forced to that vile ministry;
And a green withy of its flowering boughs
Fettered each delicate leg. Right fronting her
We saw a villain Satyr, who that moment
Was finishing his fastenings. She did all
She could to hinder him; but what was that?
The moments vanished. Amyntas with a lance
In his right hand, came on the Satyr, like
A lion. I had filled my lap with stones:
And the brute ravisher fled. His flight left leisure
To the glad lover's eyes; and round he turned them
With earnestness upon those lovely limbs,
Which looked as delicate and fair as cream
Which held her virgin bosom in its clip,
Was made to serve the outrage, and strapped fast
Her hands to the hard trunk. Nay, even the tree
Itself was forced to that vile ministry;
And a green withy of its flowering boughs
Fettered each delicate leg. Right fronting her
We saw a villain Satyr, who that moment
Was finishing his fastenings. She did all
She could to hinder him; but what was that?
The moments vanished. Amyntas with a lance
In his right hand, came on the Satyr, like
A lion. I had filled my lap with stones:
And the brute ravisher fled. His flight left leisure
To the glad lover's eyes; and round he turned them
With earnestness upon those lovely limbs,
Which looked as delicate and fair as cream
