Page:Collected poems vol 1 de la mare.djvu/23

 The woodman passed away Along the forest path; His ax shone keen and grey In the last beams of day: And all was still as death: -—

Only Pan singing sweet Out of Earth's fragrant shade; I dreamed his eyes to meet, And found but shadow laid Before my tired feet.

Comes no more dawn to me, Nor bird of open skies. Only his woods' deep gloom I see Till, at the end of all, shall rise, Afar and tranquilly, Death's stretching sea.