Pan Idyl
CHORUS
A HAI ! Who are they coming like the wind
Out of the West?
Lean out, my boughs, and tendrils help to bind
The loveliest!
O blinder than all maidens she must be,
That ever ran
From love: — for look who follows! Who but he?
Pan, — Pan!
Io Pan!
Ahai! More fleet than birds along the air,
A tameless maid!
O tameless maiden, would you be more fair?
Be unafraid.
Turn, turn and look; nay, hearken, but a word,
And tell us why
You fear the forest, or the forest-lord!
— Why, why?
Io Pan!
DRYADS
Stay, Syrinx, hear his pleading. Stay with us,
Thou joy of Pan,
And we will tell all secrets glorious
The forest can;
Yea, how our mornings and our star-sown eves
Are glad through all: —
The trees are ever happy, though the leaves
May fall.
Io Pan!
SATYRS
The foolish maiden that would flee from Love
With shaggy ears!
Is it his wild, bright eyes, wild locks above,
The maiden fears? —
More beautiful than beauty of the deer,
More fleet, more free: —
O happy, all things near or far to hear,
And see!
Io Pan!
FAUNS
Come, follow!
DRYADS
Syrinx, Syrinx!
ALL
Maiden, stay!
Ah, never flee;
For thou art brighter than a summer's day,
And wild as we!
Come, follow, — she shall never run away
To wish us harm;
Up vines and bracken, catch her as we may, —
A charm,
A charm!
PAN
O Loveliest, O winged maiden, hear them!
SYRINX
Not I! — nor linger near them.
PAN
Stay yet awhile; the moth-gray dark is falling.
SYRINX
I hear Diana calling.
PAN
Thou art too fair to slay my dappled deer.
Thou art my prisoner;
And I will lock thee in green woods, forever!
SYRINX
Ah, never, never!
Have pity, sister Pines, —
DRYADS
— We have no will
Apart from his, since ever Spring began.
SYRINX
O Sisters of the Hill!
OREADS
Nay, nothing may escape the heart of Pan.
SYRINX
O, everything that is! —
CHORUS
We all are his!
SYRINX
Where shall I take me? — whither?
ECHO
— Hither!
PAN
The shadows hide her, — where?
CHORUS OF NAIADS
Syrinx, what wilt thou dare?
ECHO
Wilt thou dare?
SYRINX
O Maidens, maidens dear!
Push through the water-lilies where you hide,
And open wide
Your gentle eyes on me, and grief, and fear;
And take me to you, fold me in your sleep;
Or if the silver waters are too clear,
Hide, hide me deep.
And to Diana say
That I will hold her mirror in the pool,
Lost, silver, cool;
Her serving-maiden still, at dusk of day;
Though she goes far and bright along the sky,
While far beneath, forever I must stay,
I, no more I!
O hasten, Pan is near!
I stand at bay, like any hunted thing: —
To you I cling
For refuge. Hasten, — give me hiding here;
O maidens, give, when maiden hands implore!
And he shall hunt me down — and I the deer —
No more, — no more.
( Syrinx becomes a river reed )
PAN
Ahai! I've caught the thrush!
ECHO
Hush.
PAN
But whither flown?
ECHO
Flown.
PAN
My maiden, here but now! —
ECHO
But now . . . . . . .
PAN
Ai, ai!
NAIADS
— A river-reed!
O beautiful, a reed!
CHORUS
Ai, ai, a reed, — Ai, ai!
PAN
Were there not reeds enough, O cruel water?
Were there not reeds enough along the stream?
That you must steal my dream,
That fairest daughter
Of morning skies?
You, you who slip away like her, with laughter,
From Love that follows after!
Cold thing, with silver eyes,
You, — you who spurn
The lovely fire with hisses! You who turn
All things to scorn and flight! —
Yea, I had caught her,
My heart's desire;
And you must quench her like the lovely fire: —
Too bright!
O subtle water!
FAUN
O master,
Care not to grieve for her. Thy grief
Will hurt the buds, will blight the leaf.
Take heart again!
Tears are no more than summer-rain,
Gone all, to-morrow.
O master,
Leave this sorrow.
CHORUS
Ai, Ai, a reed!
FAUN
O master,
We'll bring thee all our nuts, our wine,
And honey, hidden in the pine.
Take heart again!
For even now, because of pain,
The leaves are paling,
O master! —
And sheep be ailing.
CHORUS
Ai, Ai, a reed!
PAN
O cruel maiden, nothing but a reed,
A reed beside the brook!
Without a word of pity for my need,
Without a backward look.
Were there not reeds enough to stir and sigh,
To murmur and to sway?
But you must needs away,
And never say
Good-by?
ECHO
. . . . . . Good-by.
PAN
Not thou! — Her voice, her voice!
ECHO
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Her voice.
CHORUS
What would he now? Take heed.
— To kiss a reed!
He gathers one — and others — green and tall.
And now, with joy and speed,
O happy side-by-side,
Like maidens with the bride,
He binds them all!
Behold, Beloved! For faster than she ran,
He binds the reeds with grasses all along:
He blows across the hollow pipes together,
Pan, to whom all belong!
O golden weather! —
Pan makes a song.
PAN
Ah, Dearest, is it thou?
FAUN
O master, pipe again; it makes a song: —
He, golden weather!
PAN
Ah, Music mine, to me the reeds belong: —
Sing we together.
Never shalt thou be gone from me, my flute;
And only when I have no breath to plead,
Shalt thou, beloved reed,
Be mute.
Dear voice, O sweet! I'll teach thee ways
To comfort men, and mock
The care from all their mortal days,
So unto every flock
The shepherd boy shall pipe and sing!
And piping so, and singing so,
East or west the wind may blow; —
The shepherd his own heart shall bring
Unto glad pasturing!
Dear voice, O sweet! more joy in this
Than I did think to know! —
More joy — and longer — than a kiss;
And still the joy doth grow.
Say not a word to me, but sing:
And piping so, and singing so, —
North or south the wind may blow!
Glad are the meadows for their king,
— And all as glad as Spring!
CHORUS
We heard a sorrow coming on the wind; —
Like wind gone by.
For sorrow cannot hold the forest kind: —
We know not why!
O master, we were sad; but now we sing
As summer can.
And when our leaves are gone, more leaves will spring! —
— Io, Io Pan!
CHORAL HYMN
Gone is our grief in deeps of happiness.
We lift our sorrows for the sun to bless;
And down the air the little sorrow goes,
Like a strewn rose.
Our working day of care is laid to rest,
An ailing child on the immortal breast
Of sleep, beneath the white, immortal moon.
And care doth sleep, soon.
Our harvest and our gathered days we bring
To thine unending daytime at the Spring.
What more thou willest with this life of man,
— Who shall know, Pan?
Take us with all our petals. From our dust
Make April and new Maytime, for our trust
That thou wilt find us fair again with all
Things that fade and fall.
O golden weather of the world of leaves,
Where none can sorrow long!
Take to thee all that withers, all that grieves,
Where none can sorrow long.
Be glad, and all thine own are glad together:
— Tears are but golden tears in golden weather.
O golden weather, —
O golden song!
A HAI ! Who are they coming like the wind
Out of the West?
Lean out, my boughs, and tendrils help to bind
The loveliest!
O blinder than all maidens she must be,
That ever ran
From love: — for look who follows! Who but he?
Pan, — Pan!
Io Pan!
Ahai! More fleet than birds along the air,
A tameless maid!
O tameless maiden, would you be more fair?
Be unafraid.
Turn, turn and look; nay, hearken, but a word,
And tell us why
You fear the forest, or the forest-lord!
— Why, why?
Io Pan!
DRYADS
Stay, Syrinx, hear his pleading. Stay with us,
Thou joy of Pan,
And we will tell all secrets glorious
The forest can;
Yea, how our mornings and our star-sown eves
Are glad through all: —
The trees are ever happy, though the leaves
May fall.
Io Pan!
SATYRS
The foolish maiden that would flee from Love
With shaggy ears!
Is it his wild, bright eyes, wild locks above,
The maiden fears? —
More beautiful than beauty of the deer,
More fleet, more free: —
O happy, all things near or far to hear,
And see!
Io Pan!
FAUNS
Come, follow!
DRYADS
Syrinx, Syrinx!
ALL
Maiden, stay!
Ah, never flee;
For thou art brighter than a summer's day,
And wild as we!
Come, follow, — she shall never run away
To wish us harm;
Up vines and bracken, catch her as we may, —
A charm,
A charm!
PAN
O Loveliest, O winged maiden, hear them!
SYRINX
Not I! — nor linger near them.
PAN
Stay yet awhile; the moth-gray dark is falling.
SYRINX
I hear Diana calling.
PAN
Thou art too fair to slay my dappled deer.
Thou art my prisoner;
And I will lock thee in green woods, forever!
SYRINX
Ah, never, never!
Have pity, sister Pines, —
DRYADS
— We have no will
Apart from his, since ever Spring began.
SYRINX
O Sisters of the Hill!
OREADS
Nay, nothing may escape the heart of Pan.
SYRINX
O, everything that is! —
CHORUS
We all are his!
SYRINX
Where shall I take me? — whither?
ECHO
— Hither!
PAN
The shadows hide her, — where?
CHORUS OF NAIADS
Syrinx, what wilt thou dare?
ECHO
Wilt thou dare?
SYRINX
O Maidens, maidens dear!
Push through the water-lilies where you hide,
And open wide
Your gentle eyes on me, and grief, and fear;
And take me to you, fold me in your sleep;
Or if the silver waters are too clear,
Hide, hide me deep.
And to Diana say
That I will hold her mirror in the pool,
Lost, silver, cool;
Her serving-maiden still, at dusk of day;
Though she goes far and bright along the sky,
While far beneath, forever I must stay,
I, no more I!
O hasten, Pan is near!
I stand at bay, like any hunted thing: —
To you I cling
For refuge. Hasten, — give me hiding here;
O maidens, give, when maiden hands implore!
And he shall hunt me down — and I the deer —
No more, — no more.
( Syrinx becomes a river reed )
PAN
Ahai! I've caught the thrush!
ECHO
Hush.
PAN
But whither flown?
ECHO
Flown.
PAN
My maiden, here but now! —
ECHO
But now . . . . . . .
PAN
Ai, ai!
NAIADS
— A river-reed!
O beautiful, a reed!
CHORUS
Ai, ai, a reed, — Ai, ai!
PAN
Were there not reeds enough, O cruel water?
Were there not reeds enough along the stream?
That you must steal my dream,
That fairest daughter
Of morning skies?
You, you who slip away like her, with laughter,
From Love that follows after!
Cold thing, with silver eyes,
You, — you who spurn
The lovely fire with hisses! You who turn
All things to scorn and flight! —
Yea, I had caught her,
My heart's desire;
And you must quench her like the lovely fire: —
Too bright!
O subtle water!
FAUN
O master,
Care not to grieve for her. Thy grief
Will hurt the buds, will blight the leaf.
Take heart again!
Tears are no more than summer-rain,
Gone all, to-morrow.
O master,
Leave this sorrow.
CHORUS
Ai, Ai, a reed!
FAUN
O master,
We'll bring thee all our nuts, our wine,
And honey, hidden in the pine.
Take heart again!
For even now, because of pain,
The leaves are paling,
O master! —
And sheep be ailing.
CHORUS
Ai, Ai, a reed!
PAN
O cruel maiden, nothing but a reed,
A reed beside the brook!
Without a word of pity for my need,
Without a backward look.
Were there not reeds enough to stir and sigh,
To murmur and to sway?
But you must needs away,
And never say
Good-by?
ECHO
. . . . . . Good-by.
PAN
Not thou! — Her voice, her voice!
ECHO
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . Her voice.
CHORUS
What would he now? Take heed.
— To kiss a reed!
He gathers one — and others — green and tall.
And now, with joy and speed,
O happy side-by-side,
Like maidens with the bride,
He binds them all!
Behold, Beloved! For faster than she ran,
He binds the reeds with grasses all along:
He blows across the hollow pipes together,
Pan, to whom all belong!
O golden weather! —
Pan makes a song.
PAN
Ah, Dearest, is it thou?
FAUN
O master, pipe again; it makes a song: —
He, golden weather!
PAN
Ah, Music mine, to me the reeds belong: —
Sing we together.
Never shalt thou be gone from me, my flute;
And only when I have no breath to plead,
Shalt thou, beloved reed,
Be mute.
Dear voice, O sweet! I'll teach thee ways
To comfort men, and mock
The care from all their mortal days,
So unto every flock
The shepherd boy shall pipe and sing!
And piping so, and singing so,
East or west the wind may blow; —
The shepherd his own heart shall bring
Unto glad pasturing!
Dear voice, O sweet! more joy in this
Than I did think to know! —
More joy — and longer — than a kiss;
And still the joy doth grow.
Say not a word to me, but sing:
And piping so, and singing so, —
North or south the wind may blow!
Glad are the meadows for their king,
— And all as glad as Spring!
CHORUS
We heard a sorrow coming on the wind; —
Like wind gone by.
For sorrow cannot hold the forest kind: —
We know not why!
O master, we were sad; but now we sing
As summer can.
And when our leaves are gone, more leaves will spring! —
— Io, Io Pan!
CHORAL HYMN
Gone is our grief in deeps of happiness.
We lift our sorrows for the sun to bless;
And down the air the little sorrow goes,
Like a strewn rose.
Our working day of care is laid to rest,
An ailing child on the immortal breast
Of sleep, beneath the white, immortal moon.
And care doth sleep, soon.
Our harvest and our gathered days we bring
To thine unending daytime at the Spring.
What more thou willest with this life of man,
— Who shall know, Pan?
Take us with all our petals. From our dust
Make April and new Maytime, for our trust
That thou wilt find us fair again with all
Things that fade and fall.
O golden weather of the world of leaves,
Where none can sorrow long!
Take to thee all that withers, all that grieves,
Where none can sorrow long.
Be glad, and all thine own are glad together:
— Tears are but golden tears in golden weather.
O golden weather, —
O golden song!
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.