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 that 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!