Victor
B. Neuburg .
EPILOGUE
(To
the
Triumph
of Pan .)
DECAUSE
the
fulfilment
of
dreams
is
itself
but
a
dream ,
There
is no
end
save
the
song, and
song
is the
end ;
And
here with
a sheaf of
songs
bareheaded
I stand,
And
the light
is
fled
from
mine
eyes,
and
the
sword
from
my hand
Is fallen ; the years have left me
a fool, and
the gleam
Is vanished
from
life,
and
the
swift
years
sear me
and
rend .
There is no end save the song , and
the
joy
in
the singing
,
And
song
alone may
relieve
the shadowy
pain
.
I
am
weary
even
of
song
,
and
the
lyre
is
cold
,
And my heart
is
lead
,
and
the world
seems
very
old
.
Dusk
falls
on
the
earth
,
and
Apollo
no more
comes
winging
His way
to
me now
;
it
may be
I
shall sing not again
.
Yet
to
the
dream
I
was
true
,
and
I
followed the light
Till
it
vanished
,
and
left me
in
darkness
all
cold and
forlorn
;
It
may be
that
is
the
end
;
I
know
not nor
care
.
If
these
songs that were wrought
in
the
days
of
my
springtide are fair
,
Perchance
they
shall
seem
to
you
good
in
the
heart
of
the
night
,
When
you
wait
for
the
light that
shall
come
in
the
wake
of
the morn
.
154