A thousand others of immortal fame; Among the rest fair Atalanta came, Grace of the woods: a diamond buckle bound Her vest behind, that else had flow’d upon the ground, And show’d her buskin’d legs; her head was bare, But for her native ornament of hair, Which in a simple knot was tied above: Sweet negligence! unheeded bait of love! Her sounding quiver on her shoulder tied, One hand a dart, and one a bow supplied. Such was her face, as in a nymph display’d A fair fierce boy, or in a boy betray’d The blushing beauties of a modest maid. The Calydonian chief at once the dame Beheld, at once his heart received the flame, With heavens averse. “O, happy youth!” he cried, “For whom thy Fates reserve so fair a bride.” He sigh’d, and had no leisure more to say; His honour call’d his eyes another way, And forced him to pursue the now neglected prey.