When the woods are gay in the time of June
    With the Chestnut flow'r and fan,
And the birds are still in the hush of noon, -
    Hark to the pipes of Pan !
He plays on the reed that once was a maid
    Who broke from his arms and ran,
And her soul goes out to the list'ning glade -
    Hark to the pipes of Pan !
Though you hear, come not near,
    Fearing the wood-god's ban ;
Soft and sweet, in the dim retreat,
    Hark to the pipes of Pan !

When the sun goes down and the stars are out,
    He gathers his goat-foot clan,
And the Dryads dance with the Satyr rout ;
    Hark to the pipes of Pan !
For he pipes the dance of the happy Earth
    Ere ever the gods began,
When the woods were merry and mad with mirth -
    Hark to the pipes of Pan !
Come not nigh, pass them by,
    Woe to the eyes that scan !
Wild and loud to the leaping crowd,
    Hark to the pipes of Pan !

When the armies meet on the battle field,
    And the fight is man to man,
With the gride of sword and the clash of shield -
    Hark to the pipes of Pan !
Thro' the madden'd shriek of the flying rear,
    Thro' the roar of the charging van,
There skirls the tune of the God of Fear -
    Hark to the pipes of Pan !
Ours the fray -- on and slay,
    Let him escape that can !
Ringing out in the battle shout,
    Hark to the pipes of Pan !