Some thoughtlessly proclaim the Muses nine:
A tenth is Sappho, maid divine.

Some thoughtlessly proclaim the Muses nine:
A tenth is Sappho, maid divine.

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!

Who hearkens to the gods, the gods give ear.

Who hearkens to the gods, the gods give ear.

Nature's self's thy Ganymede.

Nature's self's thy Ganymede.

The Graces, three erewhile, are three no more;
A fourth is come with perfume sprinkled o'er.
'Tis read more

The Graces, three erewhile, are three no more;
A fourth is come with perfume sprinkled o'er.
'Tis Berenice blest and fair; were she
Away the Graces would no Graces be.

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.

Never, believe me,
Appear the Immortals,
Never alone.

Never, believe me,
Appear the Immortals,
Never alone.

The heathen in his blindness
Bows down to wood and stone.

The heathen in his blindness
Bows down to wood and stone.

There's a one-eyed yellow idol to the north of Khatmandu,
There's a little marble cross below the town,
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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.