"REST! This little Fountain runs Thus for aye:—It never stays For the look of summer suns, Nor the cold of winter days Whosoe’er shall wander near, When the Syrian heat is worst, Let him hither come, nor fear Lest he may not slake his thirst: He will find this little river Running still, as bright as ever. Let him drink, and onward hie, Bearing but in thought that I, EROTAS, bade the Naiad fall, And thank the great god Pan for all!"