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Poem	FROM the forests and highlands We come we come; From the river-girt islands Where loud waves are dumb Listening to my sweet pipings. 5 The wind in the reeds and the rushes The bees on the bells of thyme The birds on the myrtle bushes The cicale above in the lime And the lizards below in the grass 10 Were as silent as ever old Tmolus was Listening to my sweet pipings. Liquid Peneus was flowing And all dark Tempe lay In Pelion's shadow outgrowing 15 The light of the dying day Speeded by my sweet pipings. The Sileni and Sylvans and Fauns And the Nymphs of the woods and waves To the edge of the moist river-lawns 20 And the brink of the dewy caves And all that did then attend and follow Were silent with love as you now Apollo With envy of my sweet pipings. I sang of the dancing stars 25 I sang of the d?dal earth And of heaven and the giant wars And love and death and birth. And then I changed my pipings¡ª Singing how down the vale of M?nalus 30 I pursued a maiden and clasp'd a reed: Gods and men we are all deluded thus! It breaks in our bosom and then we bleed. All wept¡ªas I think both ye now would If envy or age had not frozen your blood¡ª 35 At the sorrow of my sweet pipings.
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