Ephemera (Buck)/Pan
PAN
These are the forests of Arcadia . . . Knowest thou why they are so fair, why the wind sighs so gently among the trees, why the leaves are so green, the earth so warm and soft, why the fields are bright with flowers and why, from the reeds beside the brooks, strange whispers come?
Knowest thou, too, why the sun shines down so bright by day and why, at night, the moonlight dreams upon the sleeping world, peopling the deep shadows of the rocks and trees with unknown things?
Listen and I will tell thee . . . A god dwells here.
From far away, echoing over the flowering fields, gliding among the trees, hearest thou those limpid notes clear as the love-song of a bird? Hearest thou those pure, sweet notes blending with earth and sky, voicing the subtle spirit of the woods and fields?
It is the god . . . be still and listen.