From The Same (Pictures From Theocritus - From Idyl I.)

Pan, Pan, oh mighty hunter! whether now, Thou roamest o'er Lyceus' shaggy brow, Or Moenalaus, outstretched in amplest shade, Thy solitary footsteps have delayed; Leave Helice's romantic rock a while, And haste, oh haste, to the Sicilian isle; Leave the dread monument, approached with fear, That Lycaonian tomb the gods revere. Here cease, Sicilian Muse, the Doric lay;— Come, Forest King, and bear this pipe away; Daphnis, subdued by love, and bowed with woe, Sinks, sinks for ever to the shades below.