Imagine Diana in gorgeous array, How into the forests and thickets she flies, With her hair in the breezes, and flushed for the fray, How the very best riders she proudly defies. Have you seen Théroigne, of the blood-thirsty heart, As an unshod herd to attack he bestirs, With cheeks all inflamed, playing up to his part, As he goes, sword in hand, up the royal stairs? And so is Sisina—yet this warrior sweet, Has a soul with compassion and kindness replete, Inspired by drums and by powder, her sway Knows how to concede to the supplicants' prayers, And her bosom, laid waste by the flames, has alway, For those that are worthy, a fountain of tears.