Sonnet No. Nineteen Louise Labe

The huntress, Diana, in the depths of the wood, After dealing out blows to many a beast, Was taking a breather, with her crowned Nymphs at rest. Where often I'd rested like a fairy to brood Without thought, when I heard a voice as thin as a sliver Ask me a question. It said: 'Oh Nymph in a dream, Why have you not come back to Diana, your Queen? ' And seeing me there without a bow or a quiver It added; 'Oh friend of mine, why are you found With your bow and your arrows no longer around? ' I replied to this stranger in more anger than sorrows: 'I have searched in vain but can find no traces Somebody took them, my bow and arrows And shot them off in hundreds of places.