Verse > Anthologies > Hunt and Lee, eds. > The Book of the Sonnet
Hunt and Lee, comps.  The Book of the Sonnet.  1867.
I. Ancient Fables
By Paul Hamilton Hayne (1830–1886)
YE pleasant myths of eld, why have ye fled?
  The earth has fallen from her blissful prime
  Of summer years; the dews of that sweet time
  Are withered on its garlands sear and dead.
No longer in the blue fields overhead        5
  We list the rustling of immortal wings,
  Or hail at eve the kindly visitings
  Of gentle Genii to fair fortunes wed:
The seas have lost their Nereids, the sad streams
  Their gold-haired habitants, the mountains lone        10
  Those happy Oreads; and the blithesome tone
Of Pan’s soft pipe melts only in our dreams:
  Fitfully fall the old Faith’s broken gleams
  On our dull hearts cold as sepulchral stone.

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