Canto First I   The Gods of old are silent on their shore,   Since the great Pan expired, and through the roar      Of the Ionian waters broke a dread      Voice which proclaimed “the Mighty Pan is dead.”   How much died with him! false or true—the dream   Was beautiful which peopled every stream      With more than finny tenants, and adorned      The woods and waters with coy nymphs that scorned   Pursuing Deities, or in the embrace   Of gods brought forth the high heroic race      Whose names are on the hills and o’er the seas.