If granted license, what would I say? To gods who thrived in ancients days Who've ruled the earth, the seas, the skies Now they've gone, can anybody say why?
Those few who knew the brightest sun Is fired with the light of devildom To the crimson shrine, we'll find him there Enter with noose and scarlet snare
Pan, come with pipes and wicked cards With nymphs and satyrs for thy guards Io Pan, through forest trees Through blissful light, Pan, come to me!