High on a stag the Goddess held her seat,
And there were little hounds about her feet;
Below her feet there was a sickle moon, Waxing it seemed, but would be waning soon.
Her statue bore a mantle of bright green,
Her hand a bow with arrows cased and keen;
Her eyes were lowered, gazing as she rode
Down to where Pluto has his dark abode.
And there were little hounds about her feet;
Below her feet there was a sickle moon, Waxing it seemed, but would be waning soon.
Her statue bore a mantle of bright green,
Her hand a bow with arrows cased and keen;
Her eyes were lowered, gazing as she rode
Down to where Pluto has his dark abode.
( Geoffrey Chaucer )
[ The Canterbury Tales ]
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