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In Response to Plutarch

Posted on August 19, 2011

Play me through Pan’s pipes
To soft, from memories fall
In haunting echoes of desire.
Pan lives!
His magick reeds yet call
Lover’s wings to even higher ecstasies
Than Love’s brief flight…
And sighs refrain its mist and fire.
Pan is the song of Love’s delight
That plays through lover’s memories
In measure eternal.
Play me through Pan’s pipes
Or play me not at all.

Last edited by Damian on August 19, 2011, 4:28 am


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