March — Mitsic of Reeds. 97 



these last year's reeds will never be green again, and 

 they watch the spring as old people watch sadly some 

 festival of youth. Their music is not unknown to thee, 

 great Pan ! 



1 Who lovest to see the hamadryads dress 

 Their ruffled locks where meeting hazels darken, 

 And through whole solemn hours dost sit and hearken 

 The dreary melody of bedded reeds 

 In desolate places, where dark moisture breeds 

 The pipy hemlock to strange overgrowth, 

 Bethinking thee how melancholy loth 

 Thou wast to lose fair Syrinx.' 



And in another poem by Keats, where Pan and a 

 reedy stream both recur to his fancy, we have in the 

 space of four lines a strong expression of pity, with 

 weeping, sighing, and desolation : — 



* Poor Nymph — poor Pan — how did we weep to find 

 Nought but a lovely sighing of the wind 

 Along the reedy stream ! a half heard strain. 

 Full of sweet desolation, balmy pain? 



As the willow is associated with the sadness of dis- 

 appointed lovers — 



■ The willow, worne of fornlorne paramours ' — 



so whenever the poets speak of reeds, it is in connection 

 with dreariness or weariness of some kind, and always 

 to give sadness to the landscape. This may be because 

 no plant answers so exactly to our idea of ghosts as 

 reeds do when they stand still in their places, so changed 

 and pale, when the sap no longer flows, and a phantom 



7 



