age, for even
now on Maenalus, Pan sighs and stretches in his sleep, wishful to awake
and behold about him the little rose-crowned Fauns and the antique
Satyrs. In thy yearning hast thou divined what no mortal else, saving
only a few whom the world reject, remembereth; _that the Gods were never
dead_, but only sleeping the sleep and dreaming the dreams of Gods in
lotos-filled Hesperian gardens beyond the golden sunset. And now draweth
nigh the time of their awaking, when coldness and ugliness shall perish,
and Zeus sit once more on Olympus. Already the sea about Paphos
trembleth into a foam which only ancient skies have looked on before,
and at night on Helicon the shepherds hear strange murmurings and
half-remembered notes. Woods and fields are tremulous at twilight with
the shimmering of white saltant forms, and immemorial Ocean yields up
curious sights beneath thin moons. The Gods are patient, and have slept
long, but neither man nor giant shall defy the Gods forever. In Tartarus
the Titans writhe, and beneath the fiery Aetna groan the children of
Uranus and Gaea. The day now dawns when man must answer for his
centuries of denial, but in sleeping the Gods have grown kind, and will
not hurl him to the gulf made for deniers of Gods. Instead will their
vengeance smite the darkness, fallacy and ugliness which have turned the
mind of man; and under the sway of bearded Saturnus shall mortals, once
more sacrificing unto him, dwell in beauty and delight. This night shalt
thou know the favour of the Gods, and behold on Parnassus those dreams
which the Gods have through ages sent to Earth to show that they are not
dead. For poets are the dreams of the Gods, and in each age someone hath
sung unknowing the message and the promise from the lotos-gardens beyond
the sunset."

Then in his arms Hermes bore the dreaming maiden through the skies.
Gentle breezes from the tower of Aiolos wafted them high above warm,
scented seas, till suddenly they came upon Zeus holding court on the
double-headed Parnassus; his golden throne flanked by Apollo and the
Muses on the right hand, and by ivy-wreathed Dionysus and
pleasure-flushed Bacchae on the left hand. So much of splendour Marcia
had never seen before, either awake or in dreams, but its radiance did
her no injury, as would have the radiance of lofty Olympus; for in this
lesser court the Father of Gods had tempered his glories for the sight
of mortals. Before the laurel-draped mouth of the