Hunt and Lee, comps. The Book of the Sonnet. 1867.
II. A Still PlaceBryan Waller Procter (17871874)
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Lies the mute sylvan now, mysterious Pan?
Once, (while rich Peneus and Ilissus ran
Clear from their fountains,) as the morning broke,
’T is said the Satyr with Apollo spoke,
And to harmonious strife with his wild reed
Challenged the god, whose music was indeed
Divine, and fit for heaven. Each played, and woke
Beautiful sounds to life,—deep melodies;
One blew his pastoral pipe with such nice care
That flocks and birds all answered him; and one
Shook his immortal showers upon the air.
That music hath ascended to the sun;
But where the other? Speak, ye dells and trees!