Page:Collected poems vol 1 de la mare.djvu/22

 HAT voice is that I hear Crying across the pool?" " It is the voice of Pan you hear, Crying his sorceries shrill and clear, In the twilight dim and cool."

"What song is it he sings, Echoing from afar; While the sweet swallow bends her wings. Filling the air with twitterings, Beneath the brightening star?"

The woodman answered me, His faggot on his back:— "Seek not the face of Pan to see; Flee from his clear note summoning thee To darkness deep and black!" "He dwells in thickest shade. Piping his notes forlorn Of sorrow never to be allayed; Turn from his coverts sad Of twilight unto morn!"