THE ENCOUNTER
’Twas there in Tempé that he lay
Under a plane-tree, fast asleep,
His pipes far-flung.—Pan! growing gray;
Lines on his mocking face; his gay
Scuffling hoofs forgot to leap.
The river pleaded, “Wake the God”;
The birds sat by with soft aside;
Up from the delicate spring-sod
I saw the eager flowers nod,
And little leaves my language tried.
I woke Pan. Bore the deep earth-gaze
On my false being, false to life
By all the dreary modern ways:
“Pan,” I dared whisper—“long the days—
One needs thy music in the Strife.
“Full many a spring when poppies fired
This brook-side, did I play for you.”
Pan answered me: “My music tired,
For colder music you desired;
So be it—I am weary too!”
“Forgive me for my sad unworth,
Oh, patient Pan,” I murmured low.
“I know that I have failed the earth;
Only, perhaps, by spirit-birth,
My children thy wild pipes will know.”
Pan frowned: “Nay, all the world doth rave;
Against the Pipe; they rant, like you!
Go, people my deserted cave
With theories and books. Zeus save
That I should hinder what you do!”
Far back in Tempé’s leafy glade
The dappled sunshine filtered through,
And dewdrops opalled every blade.
I was not of the god afraid.—
And still there was a thing to do.
“Ah, Pan, dear Pan,” I softly cried,
“Who is it that shall save but thee?
Thy music, god, the whole world wide,
Is listened for on country-side,
And every dreamer bows the knee!
“By musky grapes in rosy hands,
And all the golden fruits that glow,
A happy lover understands
Thy fluting, hearts in sober lands
Languish till they thy clear pipe know!
“Ah, Pan—play on! Forgive the souls
Whom knowledge cheats of love; forgive
That life exacts its bitter tolls
And leads to artificial goals.
Oh! Play! that we may surelier live!”
I bent, I touched the shaggy hoof,
The horns; I looked into the eyes
Clear as rock pools, and yet aloof
Like wild bird’s, then I saw the proof
That Pan is kind beyond surmise.
Tears! In Pan’s eyes!—I sprang away
(Not even Pan should see me weep)—
Yet on through Tempé, all that day
I heard wild, happy piping.—Yea,
I wakened Pan!—He’s not asleep!