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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.
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!
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.
Ye immortal gods! where in the world are we?
[Lat., O dii immortales! ubinam gentium sumus?]
Ye immortal gods! where in the world are we?
[Lat., O dii immortales! ubinam gentium sumus?]
Shakes his ambroisal curls, and gives the nod,
The stamp of fate, and sanction of the god.
Shakes his ambroisal curls, and gives the nod,
The stamp of fate, and sanction of the god.
With ravish'd ears
The monarch hears,
Assumes the god,
Affects to nod,
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With ravish'd ears
The monarch hears,
Assumes the god,
Affects to nod,
And seems to shake the spheres.
Never, believe me,
Appear the Immortals,
Never alone.
Never, believe me,
Appear the Immortals,
Never alone.
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.
