<SPAN name="chap050"></SPAN>
<h3> [Greek: Tò Pan] </h3>
<p class="poem">
The little creek which yesterday I saw<br/>
<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Ooze through the sedges, and each brackish vein</SPAN><br/>
<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">That sluiced the marsh, now filled and then again</SPAN><br/>
Sucked dry to glut the sea's unsated maw,<br/>
All ebb and flow by the same rhythmic law<br/>
<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">That times the beat of the Atlantic main—</SPAN><br/>
<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">They also fastened to the swift moon's train</SPAN><br/>
By unseen cords that no less strongly draw.<br/>
So, poet, may thy life's small tributary<br/>
<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Threading some bitter marsh, obscure, alone,</SPAN><br/>
Feel yet one pulse with the broad estuary<br/>
<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">That bears an emperor's fleets through half a zone:</SPAN><br/>
May wait upon the same high luminary<br/>
<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And pitch its voice to the same ocean's tone.</SPAN><br/></p>
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