An epithalamium is a marriage song, and Taggard turns hers into a dark, urgent chase. The speaker calls a panther out of the forest—“silken, supple, silent, lone”—toward delight, as if summoning a lover or desire itself. The panther is both hunter and hunted: something huge and storm-like follows behind it, while it moves toward a watchful doe. The speaker’s tone is not tender so much as hypnotized and a little awed. Desire here feels inevitable, animal, and dangerous.
The mood is lush, nocturnal, and suspenseful. The poem’s repeated invitation gives it a ritual, incantatory rhythm. The panther is beautiful but predatory; the doe is alert and vulnerable; the storm-like follower adds an edge of threat. Rather than treating marriage as safe or sentimental, the poem presents it as a meeting of wild forces—pursuit, longing, and surrender.