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PAN AND THALASSIUS.
They die, and behold, I am living,
While they and their dead Gods give
Place.
THALASSIUS.
Too lightly the words were spoken
That mourned or mocked at thee dead:
But whose was the word, the token,
The song that answered and said
Nay?
PAN.
But mine, in the midnight hidden,
Clothed round with the strength of night
And mysteries of things forbidden
For all but the one most bright
Muse?
