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The ghastly people of the realm of dream, Through which the Sun walks burning Mocking me; and the Earthquake-fiends
without beams! are charged
And ye swift Whirlwinds, who on poised To wrench the rivets from my quivering wings wounds
Hung mute and moveless o'er yon hushed When the rocks split and close again be
As thunder, louder than your own, made While from their loud abysses howling
The orbèd world! If then my words had The genii of the storm, urging the rage
power, Of whirlwind, and afflict me with keen Though I am changed so that aught evil hail.
70 And yet to me welcome is day and night, Is dead within; although no memory be Whether one breaks the hoar frost of the Of what is hate, let them not lose it now! morn,
What was that curse? for ye all heard me Or starry, dim, and slow, the other climbs
speak. The leaden-colored east; for then they lead
First Voice (from thė Mountains) The wingless, crawling hours, one among
Thrice three hundred thousand years whom
O'er the Earthquake's couch we stood: 75 - As some dark priest hales the reluctant Oft, as men convulsed with fears, victim
We trembled in our multitude. Shall drag thee, cruel King, to kiss the
Second Voice (from the Springs) blood
50 From these pale feet, which then might | Thunderbolts had parched our water,
We had been stained with bitter blood, trample thee If they disdained not such a prostrate
And had mute, 'mid shrieks of slave.
slaughter, Disdain! Ah no! I pity thee. What ruin
Through a city and a solitude. Will hunt thee undefended through the Third Voice (from the Air) wide heaven!
I had clothed, since Earth uprose, How will thy soul, cloven to its depth
Its wastes in colors not their own,
And oft had my serene repose Gape like a hell within! I speak in grief,
Been cloven by many a rending groan. Not exultation, for I hate no more, As then ere misery made me wise. The Fourth Voice (from the Whirlwinds) curse
We had soared beneath these mountains Once breathed on thee, I would recall. Ye
Unresting ages; nor had thunder,
Nor yon volcano's flaming fountains,
Nor any power above or under mist
Ever made us mute with wonder. Of cataracts, flung the thunder of that spell!
First Voice Ye icy Springs, stagnant with wrinkling But never bowed our snowy crest frost,
As at the voice of thine unrest.
To the Indian waves we bore.
Fourth Voice And we shrank back; for dreams of ruin To frozen caves our Aight pursuing Made keep silence thus — and thus
105 Though silence is a hell to us.
Prometheus. I hear a sound of voices:
not the voice Which I
Mother, thy sons and thou Scorn him, without whose all-enduring will Beneath the fierce omnipotence of Jove, 115 Both they and thou had vanished, like thin
mist Unrolled on the morning wind. Know ye
not me, The Titan? He who made his agony The barrier to your else all-conquering
foe? O rock-embosomed lawns, and snow-fed
streams, Now seen athwart frore vapors, deep be
low, Through whose o'ershadowing woods I
wandered once With Asia, drinking life from her loved
Why answer ye not, still? Brethren!
They dare not. 130
hear that curse again. Ha, what an awful whisper rises up! 'Tis scarce like sound; it tingles through
the frame As lightning tingles, hovering ere it strike. Speak, Spirit; from thine inorganic voice 135 I only know that thou art moving near And love. How cursed I him?
The Earth, How canst thou hear Who knowest not the language of the
dead? Prometheus. Thou art a living spirit:
speak as they The Earth. I dare not speak like life,
lest Heaven's fell King Should hear, and link me to some wheel of
pain More torturing than the one whereon I
roll. Subtle thou art and good, and though the
Gods Hear not this voice, yet thou art more than
God, Being wise and kind: earnestly hearken
145 Prometheus. Obscurely through my
brain, like shadows dim, Sweep awful thoughts, rapid and thick. I
feel Faint, like one mingled in entwining love; Yet 'tis not pleasure.
The Earth. No, thou canst not hear; Thou art immortal, and this tongue is known
Only to those who die.
– the which, if thou rememPrometheus. And what art thou,
berest not, O, melancholy Voice?
Yet my innumerable seas and streams, The Earth. I am the Earth,
Mountains, and caves, and winds, and yon Thy mother; she within whose stony veins, wide air, To the last fibre of the loftiest tree
And the inarticulate people of the dead, Whose thin leaves trembled in the frozen Preserve, a treasured spell. We meditate, air,
In secret joy and hope, those dreadful Joy ran, as blood within a living frame,
words, When thou didst from her bosom, like a But dare not speak them. cloud
Venerable mother! Of glory, arise, a spirit of keen joy!
All else who live and suffer take from thee And at thy voice her pining sons uplifted Some comfort; flowers, and fruits, and Their prostrate brows from the polluting
happy sounds, dust,
And love, though fleeting; these may not And our almighty Tyrant with fierce dread
be mine. Grew pale, until his thunder chained thee But mine own words, I pray, deny me here.
190 Then see those million worlds which The Earth. They shall be told. Ere burn and roll
Babylon was dust, Around us their inhabitants beheld The Magus Zoroaster, my dear child, My sphered light wane in wide heaven; the Met his own image walking in the garden.
That apparition, sole of men, he saw. Was lifted by strange tempest, and new For know, there are two worlds, of life fire
and death: From earthquake-rifted mountains of One that which thou beholdest; but the bright snow
other Shook its portentous hair beneath Is underneath the grave, where do inhabit Heaven's frown;
The shadows of all forms that think and Lightning and Inundation vexed the
Till death unite them and they part no Blue thistles bloomed in cities; foodless toads
Dreams and the light imaginings of Within voluptuous chambers panting
And all that fate creates or love desires, When Plague had fallen on man and beast Terrible, strange, sublime and beauteous
shapes. And Famine; and black blight on herb and There thou art, and dost hang, a writhing tree;
shade, And in the corn, and vines, and meadow 'Mid whirlwind-peopled mountains; all the grass
gods Teemed ineradicable poisonous weeds Are there, and all the powers of nameless Draining their growth, for my wan breast
worlds, was dry
Vast, sceptred phantoms; heroes, men, and With grief; and the thin air, my breath,
beasts; was stained
And Demogorgon, a tremendous gloom; With the contagion of a mother's hate And he, the supreme Tyrant, on his throne Breathed on her child's destroyer - ay, I Of burning gold. Son, one of these shall
The curse which all. remember.
Are hovering on my lips, unlike the voice will
With which our pallid race hold ghastly Thine own ghost, or the ghost of Jupiter,
talk Hades or Typhon, or what mightier gods In darkness? And, proud sufferer, who From all-prolific Evil, since thy ruin,
art thou? Have sprung, and trampled on my pros Prometheus. . Tremendous Image! as trate sons.
thou art must be Ask, and they must reply: so the revenge 215 He whom thou shadowest forth. I am his Of the Supreme may sweep through vacant
The Titan. Speak the words which I As rainy wind through the abandoned gate
would hear, Of a fallen palace.
Although no thought inform thine empty Prometheus. Mother, let not aught
voice. Of that which may be evil, pass again The Earth. Listen! And though your My lips, or those of aught resembling me.
echoes must be mute, Phantasm of Jupiter, arise, appear!
Gray mountains, and old woods, and
haunted springs, Ione
Prophetic caves, and isle-surrounding My wings are folded o'er mine ears,
streams, My wings are crossèd o'er mine eyes Rejoice to hear what yet ye cannot speak. Yet through their silver shade appears, Phantasm. A spirit seizes me and speaks And through their lulling plumes
as fire tears a thunderA Shape, a throng of sounds.
cloud. May it be no ill to thee,
Panthea. See, how he lifts his mighty O thou of many wounds!
looks! the Heaven Near whom, for our sweet sister's sake, Darkens above. Ever thus we watch and wake.
lone. He speaks! O shelter me!
Prometheus. I see the curse on gestures Panthea
proud and cold, The sound is of whirlwind underground, And looks of firm defiance, and calm hate, Earthquake, and fire, and mountains And such despair as mocks itself with cloven;
smiles, The shape is awful like the sound,
Written as a scroll: yet speak! oh Clothed in dark purple, star-inwoven.
speak! A sceptre of pale gold, To stay steps proud, o'er the slow
Fiend, I defy thee! with a calm, fixed His veinéd hand doth hold.
mind, Cruel he looks, but calm and strong,
All that thou canst inflict I bid thee Like one who does, not suffers wrong.
Foul Tyrant both of Gods and HumanPhantasm of Jupiter.
kind, the secret powers of this strange One only being shalt thou not subworld
due. Driven me, a frail and empty phantom, Rain then thy plagues upon me here, hither
Ghastly disease, and frenzying fear; On direst storms? What unaccustomed And let alternate frost and fire sounds
Eat into me, and be thine ire
Prometheus. Were these my words, O,
Parent? The Earth.
They were thine. Prometheus. It doth repent me: words
are quick and vain; Grief for awhile is blind, and so was
mine. I wish no living thing to suffer pain. 305
Lightning, and cutting hail, and legioned forms
270 Of furies, driving by upon the wounding
storms. Ay, do thy worst! Thou are omnipo
tent: O'er all things but thyself I gave thee
power, And my own will. Be thy swift mis
The utmost torture of thy hate;
reign on high.
The Earth Misery, oh misery to me, That Jove at length should vanquish
thee. Wail, howl aloud, Land and Sea,
The Earth's rent heart shall answer ye. Howl, Spirits of the living and the dead, Your refuge, your defence, lies fallen and
First Echo Lies fallen and vanquished !
Fallen and vanquished!
To whom all things of Earth and
Heaven do bow
A robe of envenomed agony;
solving brain. Heap on thy soul, by virtue of this curse, Ill deeds, then be thou damned, be
That which thou art internally.
a false and fruitless crime,
300 Scorn track thy lagging fall through
boundless space and time.