With pipe and flute the rustic Pan
Of old made music sweet to man,
And wonder hushed the warbling bird,
And closelier drew the calm-eyed herd, —
The rolling river slowlier ran.
Ah! would, ah! would, a little span,
Some air of Arcady could fan
This age of ours too seldom stirred
With pipe and flute!
But now for gold we plot and plan;
And from Beersheba unto Dan,
An Orpheus' self might walk unheard,
Or find the night-jar's note preferred:
Not so it fared when time began,
With pipe and flute!