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 hes leading
Circle round the fires 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-woods twilight
Into the meadows 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