Fleet-footed Artemis, keen-eyed daughter of Zeus
and gentle Leto, sister of bright Apollo,
we see your shadow in the woods, the curve of your
bow, the flex of your arm, we hear the wind whisper
as your arrows seek their mark–deadly your art,
flawless your aim. Huntress you are, O Artemis,
slayer of the stag and of the boar, slayer of men
and of women, death by your hand is death unforeseen.
Maiden you are, goddess, and friend of maidens;
ever-youthful one, your favor falls on the young,
watching over young girls as they brave the world’s wonders,
comforting the mother in the throes of her labor,
keeping in your care the newborn babe. Artemis,
shining maid of the wilderness, who takes pleasure
in games, in contest and in merriment, who leads
the nymphs in their carefree dance, whose clear voice we hear
in the songs of young women and the hunter’s cry.
Artemis, strong and tall, I praise and honor you.

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