Pagan, Pagan What are you seeking,
Through all the days of your long earthly tread?
Your sunrise and moonrise what chances are bringing?
And where will your travelling footsteps be led?
Pagan, pagan, sad is your heart now;
Stranger you are in a world not your own.
Its clamourous voices are echoing round you.
Though in the crowd, you still travel alone.
When fires of sunset in heaven are burning,
When over the hills blows the wind of the dawn,
Then voices ancestral within you are calling.
Still knows the wildwood the dance of the faun.
Pagan, pagan, what are you finding?
Yours is the road that winds lonely and far.
Strange are the shadows that round you come creeping.
Still through the clouds is the glint of a Star.