Hymn to Pan

Listen now, Great Pan he calls us

From the green wood in his grove

'neath the waxing moon above us

Hear his clear flute sweet and low

Hear his clear flute sweet and low

Follow in the dance he's leading

Circle 'round the fire's glow

Come and drink the wine he pours us

From the tangled vines that grow

From the tangled vines that grow

From the tangled vines that grow

Listen now and I shall follow

Listen now and I may follow

Listen now and I will follow

Out of the mid-wood's twilight

Into the meadow's dawn

Ivory limbed and brown eyed

Flashes the Faun

He skips through the copses singing

And his shadow dances along

And I know not which I should follow

Shadow or Song

O Hunter, snare me his shadow

O Nightingale, catch me his strain

Else moonstruck with music and madness

I track him in vain