"After many a dusty mile"

After many a dusty mile,

Wanderer, linger here awhile;

Stretch your limbs in this long grass;

Through these pines a wind shall pass

That shall cool you with its wing.

Grasshoppers shall shout and sing,

While the shepherd on the hill,

Near a fountain warbling still,

Modulates, when noon is mute,

Summer songs along his flute;

Underneath a spreading tree,

None so easy-limbed as he,

Sheltered from the dog-star's heat.

Rest; and then, on freshened feet,

You shall pass the forest through.

It is Pan that counsels you.