palace? Nun of the skies,
In coy virginity of pulse, thy hands
Repelled me when I sought to win thy lair,
Fraternal, with no thoughts but humorous ones;
And in thy chill revulsion, through thy skies,
At my advance thy crystal home would fade,
A ghost, a shadow, a film, a papery dream.
Thou and thy moon were one. What is it now,
Thy phantom paradise of gorgeous pearl,
With sibilant streams and palmy tier on tier
Of wind-bewhitened foliage? Still it floats,
As when thy congregated harps and viols
Beat slow harmonious progress, light on light,
Across our stainless canopy of heaven.
Ah! but how changed, Selene! If thy form
Crouches among these harsher herbs, O turn
Thy withering face away, and press thine eyes
To darkness in the strings of dusty heather,
Since that loose globe of orange pallor totters,
Racked with the fires of anarchy, and sheds
The embers of thy glory; and the cradles
Of thy imperial maidenhood are foul
With sulphur and the craterous ash of hell.
O gaze not, sister, on the loathsome wreck
Of what was once thy moon. Yet, if thou must
With tear-fed eyes visit thine ancient realm,
Bend down until the fringe of thy faint lids
Hides all save what is in this tarn reflected--
Cold, pallid, swimming in the lustrous pool,
There only worthy of thy clear regard,
A vision purified in woe.

[_The reeds in the tarn are stirred, and there is audible a faint
shriek and a ripple of laughter. A shrouded figure rises from
the marsh, and, hastening by_ PHOEBUS _through the darkness,
is lost in the woods. It is followed closely by_ PAN, _who,
observing_ PHOEBUS, _pauses in embarrassment_.]

PHOEBUS.

I thought I was alone.

PAN.

And so did we, sire.

PHOEBUS.

Am I to congratulate you on your distractions?

PAN.

I have a natural inclination to marshy places.

PHOEBUS.

This is a ghastly night, Pan.

PAN.

I had not observed it, sire. Yes, doubtless a ghastly night.
But I was occupied, and I am no naturalist. This glen curiously
reminded me of rushy Ladon. I am a great student of reeds, and
I was agreeably surprised to find some very striking specimens
here--worthy of the Arcadian watercourses, as I am a deity. I
should say, _was_ a deity.

PHOEBUS.

They will help, perhaps, to reconcile you to mortality. You can
add them to your collection.

PAN.

That, sire, is my hope. The stems are particula