Pan Is Dead! Great Pan Is Dead!

Girls Blush, Sometimes, Because They Are Alive, Half Wishing They Were Dead To Save The Shame. The Sudden Blush Devours Them, Neck And Brow; They Have Drawn Too Near The Fire Of Life, Like Gnats, And Flare Up Bodily, Wings And All. What Then? Who's Sorry For A Gnat Or Girl?

I, Who Thought To Sink, Was Caught Up Into Love, And Taught The Whole Of Life In A New Rhythm.

You're Something Between A Dream And A Miracle.

I Should Not Dare To Call My Soul My Own.

Pan Is Dead! Great Pan Is Dead! Pan, Pan Is Dead!