His troop, goat-footed Satyrs, Nymphs, and Fauns,
Till cliffs and caves reply to chords and reed.
He deems that shy Powers, as falls the Dark,
In solitudes—no prying crowds to mark—
Fill woods and hills with music, wind and stringed,
That he hears till the day-star wakes the lark.
For ears hear as they list.
The world is wide,
With wildernesses wherein few abide.
Remote from busy marts these joy to dream