John Fletcher

(20 December 1579 - 29 August 1625 / Rye, Sussex, England)

Hymn To Pan - Poem by John Fletcher

SING his praises that doth keep
   Our flocks from harm.
Pan, the father of our sheep;
   And arm in arm
Tread we softly in a round,
Whilst the hollow neighbouring ground
Fills the music with her sound.

Pan, O great god Pan, to thee
   Thus do we sing!
Thou who keep'st us chaste and free
   As the young spring:
Ever be thy honour spoke
From that place the morn is broke
To that place day doth unyoke!


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Read poems about / on: music, father, spring, god



Poem Submitted: Saturday, January 4, 2003

Poem Edited: Tuesday, May 22, 2012


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