After many a dusty mile
Wanderer, linger here awhile;
Stretch your limbs in this long grass;
Through these pines 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