Pan and the Maiden
Almost I wish I had not bowed to Pan—
And yet—and yet—
And yet—and yet—
The Lover
Look on the woods no more—
See the great moon has risen, and her light
Forgets the evil of men, and all their wrong
And folly 'sinks to some forgotten dream,
Some empty, fevered vision of waste hours,
And all this thing is but a perished dream
You have dreamt, sweet, and this alone is true—
My arms about you and my soul; your soul,
And Love, and a great gladness born of Love.
See the great moon has risen, and her light
Forgets the evil of men, and all their wrong
And folly 'sinks to some forgotten dream,
Some empty, fevered vision of waste hours,
And all this thing is but a perished dream
You have dreamt, sweet, and this alone is true—
My arms about you and my soul; your soul,
And Love, and a great gladness born of Love.
The Maiden
Hold me close—close—I dare not raise my eyes.
The lover
You are mine—you are mine—fear not, the gods were strong
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