Mad with love and laden <br />With immortal pain, <br />Pan pursued a maiden-- <br />Pan, the god--in vain. <br /> <br />For when Pan had nearly <br />Touched her, wild to plead, <br />She was gone--and clearly <br />In her place a reed! <br /> <br />Long the god, unwitting, <br />Through the valley strayed; <br />Then at last, submitting, <br />Cut the reed, and made, <br /> <br />Deftly fashioned, seven <br />Pipes, and poured his pain <br />Unto earth and heaven <br />In a piercing strain. <br /> <br />So with god and poet; <br />Beauty lures them on, <br />Flies, and ere they know it <br />Like a wraith is gone. <br /> <br />Then they seek to borrow <br />Pleasure still from wrong, <br />And with smiling sorrow <br />Turn it to a song.<br /><br />Archibald Lampman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-song-of-pan/
