[1] Haste Thee, Nymph, Whose Well-Aimed Spear Wounds The Fleeting Mountain-Deer! Dian, Jove'S Immortal Child, Huntress Of The Savage Wild! Goddess With The Sun-Bright Hair! Listen To A People'S Prayer. Turn, To LetHe's River Turn, There Thy Vanquished People Mourn![2] Come To LetHe's Wavy Shore, Tell Them They Shall Mourn No More. Thine Their Hearts, Their Altars Thine; Must They, Dian--Must They Pine?