"Pan is dead. Great Pan is dead. Ah! bow your heads, ye maidens all, And weave ye him his coronal." @3"There is no summer in the leaves, And withered are the sedges; How shall we weave a coronal, Or gather floral pledges@1?" "That I may not say, Ladies. Death was ever a churl. That I may not say, Ladies. How should he show a reason, That he has taken our Lord away Upon such hollow season?" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NO BABY IN THE HOUSE by CLARA G. DOLLIVER THE LITTLE TURTLE by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY HAWTHORNE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW EULALIE; A SONG by EDGAR ALLAN POE A ROCKING HYMN by GEORGE WITHER MOON-BRIGHT DREAMS by WILLIAM EDWARD ADAMS |