And breaking the golden lilies afloat,
With the dragon-fly on the river.
‘He tore out a reed, the great god Pan,
From the deep cool bank of the river,’
and then sitting down he ‘hacked and hewed, as a great god can,’ at the slender reed. He made it hollow, and notched out holes, and lo! there was a flute ready for his use.
Sweet, piercing sweet was the music of Pan’s pipe as the god placed his mouth upon the holes.
‘Blinding sweet, O great god Pan!
The sun on the hill forgot to die,
And the lilies revived, and the dragon-fly
Came back to dream on the river.’