Say, Bacchus, why so placid? What can there be
In commune held by Pallas and by thee?
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Say, Bacchus, why so placid? What can there be
In commune held by Pallas and by thee?
Her pleasure is in darts and battles; thine
In joyous feasts and draughts of rosy wine.

Speak of the gods as they are.

Speak of the gods as they are.

And that dismal cry rose slowly
And sank slowly through the air,
Full of spirit's melancholy
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And that dismal cry rose slowly
And sank slowly through the air,
Full of spirit's melancholy
And eternity's despair!
And they heart the words it said--
Pan is dead! great Pan is dead!
Pan, Pan is dead!

Yet verily these issues lie on the lap of the gods.

Yet verily these issues lie on the lap of the gods.

I, Phoebus, sang those songs that gained so much renown
I, Phoebus, sang them; Homer only wrote them down.

I, Phoebus, sang those songs that gained so much renown
I, Phoebus, sang them; Homer only wrote them down.

Two goddesses now must Cyprus adore;
The Muses are ten, and the Graces are four;
Stella's wit read more

Two goddesses now must Cyprus adore;
The Muses are ten, and the Graces are four;
Stella's wit is so charming, so sweet her fair face,
She shines a new Venus, a Muse, and a Grace.

Though men determine, the gods doo dispose: and oft times many
things fall out betweene the cup and the read more

Though men determine, the gods doo dispose: and oft times many
things fall out betweene the cup and the lip.

Cupid is a casuist, a mystic, and a cabalist,--
Can your lurking thought surprise,
And interpret your read more

Cupid is a casuist, a mystic, and a cabalist,--
Can your lurking thought surprise,
And interpret your device,
. . . .
All things wait for and divine him,--
How shall I dare to malign him?

Creator Venus, genial power of love,
The bliss of men below, and gods above!
Beneath the sliding read more

Creator Venus, genial power of love,
The bliss of men below, and gods above!
Beneath the sliding sun thou runn'st thy race,
Dost fairest shine, and best become thy place;
For thee the winds their eastern blasts forbear,
Thy mouth reveals the spring, and opens all the year;
Thee, goddess, thee, the storms of winter fly,
Earth smiles with flowers renewing, laughs the sky.