| Hunt and Lee, comps. The Book of the Sonnet. 1867. | | | | II. A Still Place | | By Bryan Waller Procter (1787–1874) |
| | | UNDER what beechen shade or silent oak | |
| Lies the mute sylvan now, mysterious Pan? | |
| Once, (while rich Peneus and Ilissus ran | |
| Clear from their fountains,) as the morning broke, | |
| ’T is said the Satyr with Apollo spoke, | 5 |
| And to harmonious strife with his wild reed | |
| Challenged the god, whose music was indeed | |
| Divine, and fit for heaven. Each played, and woke | |
| Beautiful sounds to life,—deep melodies; | |
| One blew his pastoral pipe with such nice care | 10 |
| That flocks and birds all answered him; and one | |
| Shook his immortal showers upon the air. | |
| That music hath ascended to the sun; | |
| But where the other? Speak, ye dells and trees! | | | | |
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