XXVII
Lover, art thou of a surety
Not a learner of the wood-god?
Has the madness of his music
Never touched thee?
Ah, thou dear and godlike mortal, 5
If Pan takes thee for his pupil,
Make me but another Syrinx
For that piping.
Lover, art thou of a surety
Not a learner of the wood-god?
Has the madness of his music
Never touched thee?
Ah, thou dear and godlike mortal, 5
If Pan takes thee for his pupil,
Make me but another Syrinx
For that piping.