The Passing of Pan

Laughter, velvet-lipped, runs ringing
All along the woodland ways,
While a strange, bewitching singing
Fills the glad Arcadian days;
Ripple-rocked, the slender naiads
Rush-fringed shores expectant scan
For attendant hamadryads,
Heralding the path of Pan.

Through the swaying bushes sliding,
Dark-eyed nymphs before him trip,
And the gods, with stately striding,
Follows, laughter on his lip;
While the wild bird-hearts that love him
In the haunts untrod by man,
Riot rapturously above him,
Heralding the path of Pan.

From the yellow beds of mallows
Gleams the glint of golden hair,
Nereids from the shorewise shallows
Fling a greeting on the air;
Slim white limbs, divinely fashioned,
Of the fair immortal clan
Sway to harmonies impassioned,
Heralding the path of Pan.

Round his brow a wreath he tosses,
Twined with Asphodel and rose,
As triumphant o'er the mosses,
Song-saluted on he goes;
Frail wood-maidens who adore him,
When he rests his temples fan--
When he rises, run before him,
Heralding the path of Pan!