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!
Copyright (c) 1926, 1935, 1971 Ezra Pound
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