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THE DEATH OF PAN
When travellers from London entered Arcady they lamented one to
another the death of Pan.
And anon they saw him lying stiff and still.
Horned Pan was still and the dew was on his fur; he had not the look
of a live animal. And then they said, "It is true that Pan is dead."
And, standing melancholy by that huge prone body, they looked for
long at memorable Pan.
And evening came and a small star appeared.
And presently from a hamlet of some Arcadian valley, with a sound
of idle song, Arcadian maidens came.
And, when they saw there, suddenly in the twilight, that old recumbent
god, they stopped in their running and whispered among themselves.
"How silly he looks," they said, and thereat they laughed a little.
And at the sound of their laughter Pan leaped up and the gravel flew
from his hooves.
And, for as long as the travellers stood and listened, the crags and
the hill-tops of Arcady rang with the sounds of pursuit.
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