Demogorgon. These are the immortal Hours, whom thou didst demand. One waits for thee. Asia. A spirit with a dreadful countenance Checks its dark chariot by the craggy gulph. Unlike thy brethren, ghastly charioteer, Whither wouldst thou Fate, Time, Occasion, Chance, and Who art thou? All things are subject but eternal Love. Asia. Speak! bear me? Spirit. I am the shadow of a destiny More dread than is my aspect: ere yon planet The response thou hast given; and of Has set, the darkness which ascends such truths Each to itself must be the oracle. One more demand; and do thou answer me As mine own soul would answer, did it know That which I ask. arise world: Prometheus shall Up from its throne, as may the lurid smoke Henceforth the sun of this rejoicing Of earthquake-ruined cities o'er the sea. Which trample the dim winds: in each | An ivory shell inlaid with crimson fire, As if the thing they loved fled on before, My coursers are fed with the lightning, They drink of the whirlwind's stream, And when the red morning is brightning They bathe in the fresh sunbeam ; They have strength for their swiftness I deem, Panthea. How thou art changed! I feel but see thee not. I scarce endure The radiance of thy beauty. Some good change Then ascend with me, daughter of Ocean. Is working in the elements, which suffer Thy presence thus unveiled. Nereids tell The That on the day when the clear hyaline stand Within a veined shell, which floated on Which bear thy name; love, like the Of the sun's fire filling the living world, and heaven And the deep ocean and the sunless caves On the brink of the night and the And all that dwells within them; till morning My coursers are wont to respire ; But the Earth has just whispered a warning That their flight must be swifter than fire: They shall drink the hot speed of desire ! Such art thou now; nor is it I alone, Thy sister, thy companion, thine own chosen one, But the whole world which seeks thy sympathy. Asia. Thou breathest on their Hearest thou not sounds i' the air which Are happier still, after long sufferings, As I shall soon become. Panthea. List! Spirits speak. Voice in the Air, singing. Life of Life! thy lips enkindle With their love the breath between them; And thy smiles before they dwindle Make the cold air fire; then screen them In those looks, where whoso gazes Faints, entangled in their mazes. Child of Light! thy limbs are burning Thro' the vest which seems to hide them; As the radiant lines of morning Thro' the clouds ere they divide them; And this atmosphere divinest Shrouds thee wheresoe'er thou shinest. Fair are others; none beholds thee, But thy voice sounds low and tender Like the fairest, for it folds thee From the sight, that liquid splendour, And all feel, yet see thee never, As I feel now, lost for ever! Lamp of Earth! where'er thou movest Its dim shapes are clad with brightness, And the souls of whom thou lovest Walk upon the winds with lightness, My soul is an enchanted boat, Upon the silver waves of thy sweet singing; And thine doth like an angel sit Beside a helm conducting it, Whilst all the winds with melody are ringing. It seems to float ever, for ever, Upon that many-winding river, Between mountains, woods, abysses, A paradise of wildernesses! Till, like one in slumber bound, Borne to the ocean, I float down, around, S The glory and the strength of him ye Of the desire which makes thee one with Our antique empire insecure, though Into a dew with poison, is dissolved, Sinking thro' its foundations:" even then built On eldest faith, and hell's coeval, fear; And tho' my curses thro' the pendulous Two mighty spirits, mingling, made a air, third Like snow on herbless peaks, fall flake Mightier than either, which, unbodied by flake, now, And cling to it; tho' under my wrath's Between us floats, felt, although unbe Descend, and follow me down the abyss. I am thy child, as thou wert Saturn's child; Mightier than thee: and we must dwell together Henceforth in darkness. nings not. Lift thy light Drink! be the nectar circling thro' your The tyranny of heaven none may retain, veins The soul of joy, ye ever-living Gods, Till exultation burst in one wide voice Like music from Elysian winds. And thou Ascend beside me, veiled in the light Even thus beneath the deep Titanian Of the victorious darkness, as he fell: Like the last glare of day's red agony, Which, from a rent among the fiery prisons I trample thee! thou lingerest? Mercy! mercy! No pity, no release, no respite! Oh, That thou wouldst make mine enemy my judge, Even where he hangs, seared by my long revenge, On Caucasus! he would not doom me thus. clouds, Burns far along the tempest-wrinkled deep. Ocean. He sunk to the abyss? To the dark void? Apollo. An eagle so caught in some bursting cloud On Caucasus, his thunder-baffled wings Gentle, and just, and dreadless, is he Entangled in the whirlwind, and his The monarch of the world? What then Which gazed on the undazzling sun, now Of wave-reflected flowers, and floating odours, The terrors of his eye illumined heaven ragged skirts voices, |
