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And greetings of delighted wonder, all Went to their sleep again: and when the dawn

Came, would'st thou think that toads,
and snakes, and efts,
Could e'er be beautiful? yet so they were,
And that with little change of shape or
hue :

All things had put their evil nature off:
I cannot tell my joy, when o'er a lake
Upon a drooping bough with night-
shade twined,

ward

And thinning one bright bunch of amber berries,

Into the mysteries of the universe :

I saw two azure halcyons clinging down- Dizzy as with delight I floated down, Winnowing the lightsome air with languid plumes,

With quick long beaks, and in the deep there lay

Those lovely forms imaged as in a sky; So, with my thoughts full of these happy| changes,

We meet again, the happiest change of

all.

Will look on thy more warm and equal light

Till her heart thaw like flakes of April

snow

And love thee.

A temple, gazed upon by Phidian forms Asia. And never will we part, till Of thee, and Asia, and the Earth, and thy chaste sister Who guides the frozen and inconstant

moon

Spirit of the Earth.

The abysses of the sky and the wide earth,

There was a change the impalpable thin air

And the all-circling sunlight were transformed,

As if the sense of love dissolved in them Had folded itself round the sphered world.

My vision then grew clear, and I could

see

Asia loves Prometheus?

My coursers sought their birthplace in the sun,

Where they henceforth will live exempt
from toil

Pasturing flowers of vegetable fire;
And where my moonlike car will stand
within

Poised on twelve columns of resplendent stone, What; as And open to the bright and liquid sky. Yoked to it by an amphisbenic snake Peace, wanton, thou art yet The likeness of those winged steeds will not old enough. Think ye by gazing on each other's eyes To multiply your lovely selves, and fill With sphered fires the interlunar air?

Asia.

mock

Spirit of the Earth. Nay, mother, while my sister trims her lamp 'Tis hard I should go darkling. Asia. Listen; look ! The SPIRIT OF THE HOUR enters. Prometheus. We feel what thou hast heard and seen: yet speak. Spirit of the Hour. Soon as the sound had ceased whose thunder filled

me,

And you fair nymphs looking the love we feel,

In memory of the tidings it has borne,Beneath a dome fretted with graven flowers,

The flight from which they find repose.
Alas,
Whither has wandered now my partial
tongue
When all remains untold which ye would
hear?
As I have said I floated to the earth:
It was, as it is still, the pain of bliss
To move, to breathe, to be; I wander-
ing went

Among the haunts and dwellings of man-
kind,

And first was disappointed not to see

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With blood, and hearts broken by long hope, and love

Dragged to his altars soiled and garland-
less,

And slain among men's unreclaiming
tears,
Flattering the thing they feared, which
fear was hate,
Frown, mouldering fast, o'er their
abandoned shrines:

man

The painted veil, by those who were,
called life,

Which mimicked, as with colours idly
spread,
All men believed and hoped, is torn
aside;

Of the Father of many a cancelled year!
Spectres we

Of the dead Hours be,

The loathsome mask has fallen, the man We bear Time to his tomb in eternity. remains

Sceptreless, free, uncircumscribed, but

less, Exempt from awe, worship, degree, the king

Over himself; just, gentle, wise: but

man

Passionless; no, yet free from guilt or
pain,
Which were, for his will made or suffered
them,

Strew, oh, strew
Hair, not yew!

Equal, unclassed, tribeless, and nation- Wet the dusty pall with tears, not dew!
Be the faded flowers

Of Death's bare bowers

Spread on the corpse of the King of

Hours!

Nor yet exempt, tho' ruling them like
slaves,

From chance, and death, and mutability,
The clogs of that which else might over-

soar

The loftiest star of unascended heaven,
Pinnacled dim in the intense inane.

END OF THE THIRD ACT

ACT IV

SCENE, A PART OF THE FOREST NEAR
THE CAVE OF PROMETHEUS. PAN-
THEA and IONE are sleeping: they
awaken gradually during the first
Song.

For the sun, their swift shepherd,
To their folds them compelling,
In the depths of the dawn,
Hastes, in meteor-eclipsing array, and
they flee

Beyond his blue dwelling,
As fawns flee the leopard.
But where are ye?

Voice of unseen Spirits.
The pale stars are gone!

A Train of dark Forms and Shadows passes by confusedly, singing.

Here, oh, here:

We bear the bier

Haste, oh, haste!

As shades are chased,

Trembling, by day, from heaven's blue

waste.

We melt away,
Like dissolving spray,
From the children of a diviner day,
With the lullaby

Of winds that die

On the bosom of their own harmony!
Ione.
What dark forms were they?
Panthea.
The past Hours weak and gray,
With the spoil which their toil
Raked together

From the conquest but One could foil.
Ione.
Have they past?
Panthea.

They have past;
They outspeeded the blast,
While 'tis said, they are fled :

Ione.

Whither, oh, whither?

Panthea.

To the dark, to the past, to the dead.
Voice of unseen Spirits.

Bright clouds float in heaven,
Dew-stars gleam on earth,
Waves assemble on ocean,
They are gathered and driven
By the storm of delight, by the panic of Weave the dance on the floor of the

Chorus.

glee!

They shake with emotion,
They dance in their mirth.
But where are ye?

The pine boughs are singing
Old songs with new gladness,
The billows and fountains

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Once the hungry Hours were hounds Which chased the day like a bleeding deer,

Fresh music are flinging,

Like the notes of a spirit from land and And it limped and stumbled with many

from sea;

wounds

chariots ?

Semichorus of Hours.
The voice of the Spirits of Air and of
Earth

Have drawn back the figured curtain of sleep

Which covered our being and darkened our birth

In the deep.

A Voice.

In the deep?

Semichorus I.

We have heard the lute of Hope in sleep; We have known the voice of Love in dreams,

We have felt the wand of Power, and leap

Semichorus II.

Oh, below the deep.
Semichorus I.

An hundred ages we had been kept
Cradled in visions of hate and care,
And each one who waked as his brother

slept,

Found the truth

Semichorus II. As the billows leap in the morning beams!

breeze,

Pierce with song heaven's silent light, Enchant the day that too swiftly flees, To check its flight ere the cave of night.

Through the nightly dells of the desart year.

But now, oh weave the mystic measure Of music, and dance, and shapes of light,

Let the Hours, and the spirits of might and pleasure,

Like the clouds and sunbeams, unite.

A Voice.

Unite!

Panthea. See, where the Spirits of the human mind

Wrapt in sweet sounds, as in bright veils, approach.

Chorus of Spirits.

We join the throng

Of the dance and the song,

By the whirlwind of gladness borne along;
As the flying-fish leap
From the Indian deep,

And mix with the sea-birds, half asleep.

Chorus of Hours.

Semichorus II.

Whence come ye, so wild and so flect, Worse than his visions were! For sandals of lightning are on your feet,

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