How in the look does conscious guilt appear! Slowly she moved, and loiter’d in the rear; Nor lightly tripp’d, nor by the goddess ran, As once she used, the foremost of the train; Her looks were fush’d, and sullen was her mien, That sure the virgin goddess (had she been Aught but a virgin) must the guilt have seen. ’Tis said the nymphs saw all, and guess’d aright. And now the moon had nine times lost her light, When Dian, fainting in the midday beams, Found a cool covert and refreshing streams, That in soft murmurs through the forest flow’d, And a smooth bed of shining gravel show’d.