“The satyr sits by some mirrored lake and plays, and even the little fishes swarm about and mimic a dance, for the music of the satyr’s pipes is irresistible. He plays on his pipes, and the leaves on the trees dance and the worms stick their heads out of their holes and writhe, and under the rocks scorpion hugs scorpion in hot, orgiastic bliss. . . . And, by the by, a nymph comes shyly to peep through the vines. . . .” -Charles Finney, The Circus of Dr. Lao
