LXIX.

And through Arcadia’s wild and lone retreats Far other sounds have echo’d than the strain Of faun and dryad, from their woodland seats, Or ancient reed of peaceful mountain-swain! There, though at times Alpheus yet surveys, On his green banks renew’d, the classic dance, And nymph-like forms, and wild melodious lays, Revive the sylvan scenes of old romance; Yet brooding fear and dark suspicion dwell Midst Pan’s deserted haunts, by fountain, cave, and dell.