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And every day by day methought I grew More gaunt and ghostly. Oftentimes I pray'd Intense, that death would take me from the vale And all its burdens: gasping with despair Of change, hour after hour I cursed myself, Until old Saturn raised his faded eyes, And look'd around and saw his kingdom gone, And all the gloom and sorrow of the place, And that fair kneeling goddess at his feet.


 * As the moist scent of flowers, and grass, and leaves,

Fills forest-dells with a pervading air, Known to the woodland nostril, so the words Of Saturn fill'd the mossy glooms around, Even to the hollows of time-eaten, oaks, And to the windings of the foxes' hole, With sad, low tones, while thus he spoke, and sent Strange moanings to the solitary Pan, "Moan, brethren, moan, for we are swallow'd up And buried from all godlike exercise [Of influence benign on planets pale, And peaceful sway upon man's harvesting, And all those acts which Deity supreme Doth ease its heart of love in, ] Moan and wail;