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The son of Saturn gave
The nod with his dark brows. The ambrosial curls
Upon the Sovereign read more
The son of Saturn gave
The nod with his dark brows. The ambrosial curls
Upon the Sovereign One's immortal head
Were shaken, and with them the mighty mount,
Olympus trembled.
The heathen in his blindness
Bows down to wood and stone.
The heathen in his blindness
Bows down to wood and stone.
And that dismal cry rose slowly
And sank slowly through the air,
Full of spirit's melancholy
read more
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!
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.
There's a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu,
There's a little marble cross below the town,
read more
There's a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu,
There's a little marble cross below the town,
There's a broken-hearted woman tends the grave of Mad Carew,
And the yellow god forever gazes down.
Never, believe me,
Appear the Immortals,
Never alone.
Never, believe me,
Appear the Immortals,
Never alone.
When the gods wish to punish us, they answer our prayers.
When the gods wish to punish us, they answer our prayers.
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.
The confounding of all right and wrong, in wild fury, has averted
from us the gracious favor of the read more
The confounding of all right and wrong, in wild fury, has averted
from us the gracious favor of the gods.
[Lat., Omnia fanda, nefanda, malo permista furore,
Justificam nobis mentem avertere deorum.]