The old wine filled him, and he saw, with eyes Anoint of Nature, fauns and dryads fair Unseen by others; to him maidenhair And waxen lilacs, and those birds that rise A-sudden from tall reeds at slight surprise. Brought charmëd thoughts; and in earth everywhere He, like sad Jaques, found a music rare As that of Syrinx to old Grecians wise. A pagan heart, a Christian soul had he, He followed Christ, yet for dead Pan he sighed, Till earth and heaven met within his breast; As if Theocritus in Sicily Had come upon the Figure crucified And lost his gods in deep, Christ-given rest.
Maurice de Guerin
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The old wine filled him, and he saw, with eyes Anoint of Nature, fauns and dryads fair Unseen by others; to him maidenhair And waxen lilacs, and those birds that rise A-sudden from tall reeds at slight surprise. Brought charmëd thoughts; and in earth everywhere He, like sad Jaques, found a music...