NOW, whilst the moon doth rule the sky | |
| And the stars whose feeble light | |
| Give a pale shadow to the night, | |
| Are up, great Pan commanded me | |
| To walk this grove about, whilst he | 5 |
| In a corner of the wood, | |
| Where never mortal foot hath stood, | |
| Keeps dancing, music, and a feast, | |
| To entertain a lovely guest: | |
| Where he gives her many a rose, | 10 |
| Sweeter than the breath that blows | |
| The leaves, grapes, berries of the best; | |
| I never saw so great a feast. | |
| But, to my charge. Here must I stay, | |
| To see what mortals lose their way, | 15 |
| And by a false fire, seeming bright, | |
| Train them in and leave them right. | |
| Then must I watch if any be | |
| Forcing of a chastity; | |
| If I find it, then in haste | 20 |
| Give my wreathèd horn a blast | |
| And the fairies all will run, | |
| Wildly dancing by the moon, | |
| And will pinch him to the bone, | |
| Till his lustful thoughts be gone. | 25 |
| |
| Back again about this ground; | |
| Sure I hear a mortal sound.— | |
| I bind thee by this powerful spell, | |
| By the waters of this well, | |
| By the glimmering moon-beams bright, | 30 |
| Speak again, thou mortal wight! | |
| Here the foolish mortal lies, | |
| Sleeping on the ground. Arise! | |
| The poor wight is almost dead; | |
| On the ground his wounds have bled, | 35 |
| And his clothes fouled with his blood: | |
| To my goddess in the wood | |
| Will I lead him, whose hands pure | |
| Will help this mortal wight to cure. | |
| |
