 | Ballads and Lyrical poems |  |
52
THE DEATH OF PAN.
Behold the vision of the death of Pan.—
I saw a shadow on the mountain-side,
As of a Titan wandering on the cliffs;
Godlike his stature, but his head was bent
Upon his breast, in agony of woe;
And a voice rose upon the wintry wind,
Wailing and moaning—“Weep, ye nations, weep!
Great Pan is dying:—mourn me, and lament!
My steps shall echo on the hills no more;
Dumb are mine oracles—my fires are quench'd,
My doom is spoken, and I die—I die!”
I saw a shadow on the mountain-side,
As of a Titan wandering on the cliffs;
Godlike his stature, but his head was bent
Upon his breast, in agony of woe;
And a voice rose upon the wintry wind,
Wailing and moaning—“Weep, ye nations, weep!
Great Pan is dying:—mourn me, and lament!
My steps shall echo on the hills no more;
Dumb are mine oracles—my fires are quench'd,
My doom is spoken, and I die—I die!”
The full moon shone upon the heaving sea,
And in the light, with tresses all unbound,
Their loose robes dripping, and with eyes downcast,
The nymphs arose, a pallid multitude,
Lovely but most forlorn; and thus they sang,
With voice of sorrow—“Never—never more,
In these cool waters shall we lave our limbs;—
Never, oh never more! in sportive dance
Upon these crested billows shall we play;—
Nor at the call of prayer-o'erburden'd men
Appear in answer; for our hour is come;
Great Pan has fallen, and we die! we die!”
And in the light, with tresses all unbound,
Their loose robes dripping, and with eyes downcast,
The nymphs arose, a pallid multitude,
Lovely but most forlorn; and thus they sang,
With voice of sorrow—“Never—never more,
In these cool waters shall we lave our limbs;—
Never, oh never more! in sportive dance
Upon these crested billows shall we play;—
Nor at the call of prayer-o'erburden'd men
Appear in answer; for our hour is come;
Great Pan has fallen, and we die! we die!”
Emerging slowly from the trackless woods,
And from the umbrageous caverns of the hills,
Their long hair floating on the rough cold winds,
Their faces pale, their eyes suffused with tears,
The Dryads and the Oreads made their moan:—
“Never, oh never more!” distraught, they cried,
“Upon the mossy banks of these green woods
Shall we make music all the summer's day;—
Never again, at morn or noon or night,
Upon the flowery sward, by fount or stream,
Shall our light footsteps mingle in the dance;—
Never again, discoursing from the leaves
And twisted branches of these sacred oaks,
Shall we make answer at a mortal's call!
Our hour is come, our fire of life is quench'd;
Our voices fade; our oracles are mute;
Behold our agony;—we die! we die!”
And as they sang, their unsubstantial forms
Grew pale and lineless, and dispersed in air;
While from the innermost and darkest nooks,
Deepest embower'd amid those woods antique,
A voice most mournful echo'd back their plaint,
And cried—“Oh Misery! they die! they die!”
And from the umbrageous caverns of the hills,
53
Their faces pale, their eyes suffused with tears,
The Dryads and the Oreads made their moan:—
“Never, oh never more!” distraught, they cried,
“Upon the mossy banks of these green woods
Shall we make music all the summer's day;—
Never again, at morn or noon or night,
Upon the flowery sward, by fount or stream,
Shall our light footsteps mingle in the dance;—
Never again, discoursing from the leaves
And twisted branches of these sacred oaks,
Shall we make answer at a mortal's call!
Our hour is come, our fire of life is quench'd;
Our voices fade; our oracles are mute;
Behold our agony;—we die! we die!”
And as they sang, their unsubstantial forms
Grew pale and lineless, and dispersed in air;
While from the innermost and darkest nooks,
Deepest embower'd amid those woods antique,
A voice most mournful echo'd back their plaint,
And cried—“Oh Misery! they die! they die!”
Then pass'd a shadow o'er the moon's pale disc;
And to the dust, in ecstasy of awe,
I bent adoring. On the mountain-tops
Thick darkness crept, and silence deep as death's
Pervaded Nature: the wind sank—the leaves
Forbore to flutter on the bending boughs,
And breathing things were motionless as stones,
As earth, revolving on her mighty wheel,
Eclipsed in utter dark the lamp of Heaven;
And a loud voice, amid that gloom sublime,
Was heard from shore to sea, from sea to shore,
Startling the nations at the unwonted sound,
And swelling on the ear of mariners
Far tossing on their solitary barks,
A month's long voyage from the nearest land—
“Great Pan has fallen, for ever, ever more!”
And to the dust, in ecstasy of awe,
I bent adoring. On the mountain-tops
Thick darkness crept, and silence deep as death's
Pervaded Nature: the wind sank—the leaves
Forbore to flutter on the bending boughs,
And breathing things were motionless as stones,
As earth, revolving on her mighty wheel,
Eclipsed in utter dark the lamp of Heaven;
54
Was heard from shore to sea, from sea to shore,
Startling the nations at the unwonted sound,
And swelling on the ear of mariners
Far tossing on their solitary barks,
A month's long voyage from the nearest land—
“Great Pan has fallen, for ever, ever more!”
The shadow pass'd—light broke upon the world;
And Nature smiled, rejoicing in the beam
Of a new morning blushing from the East;
And sounds of music seem'd to fill the air,
And angel voices to exclaim on high,
“Great Pan has fallen! and never more his creed
Shall chain the free intelligence of man.
The Christ is born, to purify the earth;
To raise the lowly, to make rich the poor,
To teach a faith of charity and love.
Rejoice! rejoice! an error has expired;
And the new Truth shall reign for evermore!”
And Nature smiled, rejoicing in the beam
Of a new morning blushing from the East;
And sounds of music seem'd to fill the air,
And angel voices to exclaim on high,
“Great Pan has fallen! and never more his creed
Shall chain the free intelligence of man.
The Christ is born, to purify the earth;
To raise the lowly, to make rich the poor,
To teach a faith of charity and love.
Rejoice! rejoice! an error has expired;
And the new Truth shall reign for evermore!”
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