As the moon in all her splendor Slowly rose above the forest, Silent stood the Cretan women Round the altar. Girdled close their clinging tunics, Made of some transparent fabric, Traced the every curve and lissome Of their bodies. With revering eyes uplifted To the round and rising planet, Soon its drifting beams of silver Lit their faces. Soft and clear its sphere effulgent, Full defined above the treetops, Steeped in pale unearthly glamor All the landscape. When the argent glimmer rested On the altar piled with garlands, And its glow unveiled the marble Aphrodite; Linking hands, the Cretan women Moving gracefully with metric Steps began to dance a measure To the Goddess. All so light their feet unsandalled Pressed the velvet gra** in treading, That they scarcely bruised its tender Blooming verdure. Slowly turning in a circle To the east, their voices chanted In a plaintive note the sacred Ithyphallics; Then they paused, their steps retracing Toward the west, and answered strophe By antistrophe with choric Tones accordant; With the aftersong epodic, Standing all before the altar, Lo! the hymn in praise of Paphos Was completed.