Poems
Oh—oh, look not upon me, for your eyes
Are terrible—mournful, and your mouth 1is sad,
And tortures me—Pan calls—Pan calls. I dare not
Stay any longer with your lips and eyes.
Are terrible—mournful, and your mouth 1is sad,
And tortures me—Pan calls—Pan calls. I dare not
Stay any longer with your lips and eyes.
The Lover
Though I shall die, you shall not leave me now!
(She breaks away from him.)
(She breaks away from him.)
The Maiden
Farewell—farewell, your love has fallen from me,
And there is nothing left for me save mirth
And tumult of woods and pastures and wild lives.
(She darts off.)
And there is nothing left for me save mirth
And tumult of woods and pastures and wild lives.
(She darts off.)
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