Trees were around him, whipped by icy blasts-- Gigantic chestnuts, without leaf or bird, And, like himself, grown old in that same place. Through the dark network of their undergrowth, Pallid his aspect; and the earth was brown. Starless and moonless, a rough winter's night Was letting down her lappets o'er the mist. This--nothing more: old Faun, dull sky, dark wood. Poor, helpless marble, how I've pitied it! Less often man--the harder of the two. So, then, without a word that might offend His ear deformed--for well the marble hears The voice of thought--I said to him: "You hail From the gay amorous age. O Faun, what saw you When you were happy? Were you of the Court? "Speak to me, comely Faun, as you would speak To tree, or zephyr, or untrodden grass. Have you, O Greek, O mocker of old days, Have you not sometimes with that oblique eye Winked at the Farnese Hercules?--Alone, Have you, O Faun, considerately turned From side to side when counsel-seekers came, And now advised as shepherd, now as satyr?-- Have you sometimes, upon this very bench, Seen, at mid-day, Vincent de Paul instilling Grace into Gondi?--Have you ever thrown That searching glance on Louis with Fontange, On Anne with Buckingham; and did they not Start, with flushed cheeks, to hear your laugh ring forth From corner of the wood?--Was your advice As to the thyrsis or the ivy asked, When, in grand ballet of fantastic form, God Phoebus, or God Pan, and all his court, Turned the fair head of the proud Montespan, Calling her Amaryllis?--La Fontaine, Flying the courtiers' ears of stone, came he, Tears on his eyelids, to reveal to you The sorrows of his nymphs of Vaux?--What said Boileau to you--to you--O lettered Faun, Who once with Virgil, in the Eclogue, held That charming dialogue?--Say, have you seen Young beauties sporting on the sward?--Have you Been honored with a sight of Molière In dreamy mood?--Has he perchance, at eve, When here the thinker homeward went, has he, Who--seeing souls all naked--could not fear Your nudity, in his inquiring mind, Confronted you with Man?" Under the thickly-tangled branches, thus Did I speak to him; he no answer gave. I shook my head, and moved myself away; Then, from the copses, and from secret caves Hid in the wood, methought a ghostly voice Came forth and woke an echo in my souls As in the hollow of an amphora.