Pan and the Maiden
Pan
Who fears the gods when they command not fear?
The Maiden
Ah, Pan! the woods are slipping, slipping from me!
Pan
Pan
Dost thou fear love and speech of ancient days?
The Maiden
The fear of thee is heavy on me, Pan!
Pan
Fear not, the old times live and the old speech.
The Maiden>
The new days blind me, burn me, fetter me!
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