W. B. Yeats - "Pan"

I sing of Pan and his piping sweet
King of the shade and the sunlight
That dance amongst the flames of the wheat
I sing of the [empty space] dew bounding
From the impress of the steads’ feet
I sing of solitude
Temple decked to Pan by that race
Of mysterious priests
Who’ve seen the great god face to face
Who of Pan their melodious king
Have heard hushed talk among the leaves
Who have heard the brooks the story sing
How an angel race once lived on earth
With bountiful Pan as their King
A new god rose who hated man
They died, their shades posess the earth
And to the woods fled bountiful Pan
Er he fled he cast forgetfulness
On all for he loved an pitied man
But a few he called to follow him
In this temple of perfect beauty
He tells them strange and wonderful tings
And he teaches them to prophesy
And he preparest them for prophesy
[NLI 1216 1m2v; Bornstein (ed.), The Early Poetry, ii.455. The transcription has been ‘tidied’, that is, strikethrough lines have been ‘lifted’ to give a sense of the words before Yeats revises. None of Yeats’s misspellings has been corrected.]

Finn Fordham, I Do I Undo I Redo: The Textual Genesis of Modernist Selves in Hopkins, Yeats, Conrad, Forster, Joyce, and Woolf (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), 117-18. Author’s brackets include the notes.