Then spoke the Mountain: "It is too late. The time is fulfilled. He is dead."
Now Johannes knew what it was the bells were sounding. They cried through all the earth, and the darkened heavens:
"Pan is dead! Pan is dead!"
And the pale Moon spoke softly and plaintively:
"Alas! poor earth! Where now is thy beauty? Now shall we weep—weep—weep!"
Finally, the Sun also spoke: "The Eternal changes not. A new day has come. Be resigned."
And all at once it grew still—perfectly still. The wind went suddenly down. The air was so motionless that the iridescent foam-bubbles floated hither and thither as if uncertain where to alight.
A silence, full of dread, oppressed the whole dreary land.
The waste of waters only, could not so suddenly subside, and still pounded in heavy rollers upon the shore.
But it also grew still and calm—so calm that the sun and the moon were reflected in it, as perfectly as in a mirror.