Pan and the Maiden
A little time of laughter and warm breath,
A little space of pleasure and strained lips,
And afterwards the world put on new thoughts,
And the gods passed away like fallen foam,
And one great sacred spirit held the world.
A little space of pleasure and strained lips,
And afterwards the world put on new thoughts,
And the gods passed away like fallen foam,
And one great sacred spirit held the world.
The Maiden
No, no! they are potent still—they are potent still—
Nor any alien island in far seas
Holds them—but in their ancient Halls of Mirth
They slumber, and their dreams are quickening fires
Which hold the world from barrenness and death.
Nor any alien island in far seas
Holds them—but in their ancient Halls of Mirth
They slumber, and their dreams are quickening fires
Which hold the world from barrenness and death.
The Lover
Why are your eyes wild with a pagan light—
A strange and passionate language on your lips?
A strange and passionate language on your lips?
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