Don’t jump off cliffs—jump at your chance!
SYRINX.
“Poor nymph—poor Pan—how he did weep to find
Naught but a lovely sighing of the wind
Along the reedy stream; a half-heard strain,
Full of sweet desolation, balmy pain.”
—Keats.
IN Greece there dwelt in days gone by
A maiden huntress, passing fair,
Who lived beneath the open sky
And dearly loved the open air.