Dwell, awful Silence, on the shady hills
Among the bleating flocks, and purling rills,
When Pan the reed doth to his lips apply,
Inspiring it with sacred harmony.
Hydriads, and Hamadryads at that sound
In a well order’d measure beat the ground.
ยท
Dwell, awful Silence, on the shady hills
Among the bleating flocks, and purling rills,
When Pan the reed doth to his lips apply,
Inspiring it with sacred harmony.
Hydriads, and Hamadryads at that sound
In a well order’d measure beat the ground.
“I abhor symbols, I resist them.”
Robert Bresson