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.

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
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.

The Ethiop gods have Ethiop lips,
Bronze cheeks, and woolly hair;
The Grecian gods are like the read more

The Ethiop gods have Ethiop lips,
Bronze cheeks, and woolly hair;
The Grecian gods are like the Greeks,
As keen-eyed, cold and fair.

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

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

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

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

Speak of the gods as they are.

Speak of the gods as they are.

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.