Page:Ephemera, Greek prose poems (IA ephemeragreek00buckrich).pdf/15

 One drowsy day of summer, Syrinx wandered in the cool depths of the forest. And there Pan found her, singing and garlanded with flowers.

—Brown-limbed and supple nymph, all the pine-crowned satyrs and the dryads babble thy name. Now even Pan himself desires—thou art very fair I love thee.

But pale Syrinx only smiled in disdain for words too often heard.

The god's quick eyes darkened. He smiled. His ready hand leapt out The frail virgin darted away like a shadow among the trees and over the fields.

Her soft lips open to her striving breath, her eyes appealing, the nymph slips over the flowered bank of a clear stream The waters ripple about her thighs.

—O naiads, help me quickly!

Pan reaches out His arms enfold a thicket of sighing reeds.

Later, he culls the swaying reeds to cut them in uneven lengths and bind them side by side. Then, placing them to his lips, he sighs

The clear notes glide out across the fields. Sometimes they are very sad and men who