Nor sun, nor moon, nor wind, nor rain,
Can pierce its interwoven bowers,
Nor aught, save where some cloud of dew,
Drifted along the earth-creeping breeze,
Between the trunks of the hoar trees,
Hangs each a pearl in the pale flowers
Of the green laurel, blown anew;
And bends, and then fades silently,
One frail and fair anemone:
Or when some star of many a one
That climbs and wanders through steep night,
Has found the cleft through which alone
Beams fall from high those depths upon
Ere it is borne away, away,
By the swift Heavens that cannot stay,
It scatters drops of golden light,
Like lines of rain that ne'er unite:
And the gloom divine is all around;
And underneath is the mossy ground.

semichorus it. There the voluptuous nightingales, Are awake through all the broad noon-day, When one with bliss or sadness fails, And through the windless ivy-boughs, Sick with sweet love, droops dying away On its mate's music-panting bosom; Another from the swinging blossom, Watching to catch the languid close Of the last strain, then lifts on high The wings of the weak melody, Till some new strain of feeling bear The song, and all the woods are mute; When there is heard through the dim air The rush of wings, and rising there Like many a lake-surrounding flute, Sounds overflow the listener's brain So sweet, that joy is almost pain.

senic Horus i. There those enchanted eddies play Of echoes, music-tongued, which draw, By Demogorgon's mighty law, With melting rapture, or sweet awe, All spirits on that secret way; As inland boats are driven to Ocean Down streams made strong with mountain-thaw; And first there comes a gentle sound To those in talk or slumber bound, And wakes the destined soft emotion, Attracts, impels them : those who saw Say from the breathing earth behind There streams a plume-uplifting wind Which drives them on their path, while they Believe their own swift wings and feet The sweet desires within obey: And so they float upon their way, Until, still sweet, but loud and strong, The storm of sound is driven along, Suck'd up and hurrying as they fleet Behind, its gathering billows meet And to the fatal mountain bear Like clouds amid the yielding air.

Finst Faun. Canst thou imagine where those spirits live

Of Hell: what if the Son of Maia soon
Should make us food and sport—who can please long
The Omnipotent
Mencu a Y.
Back to your towers of iron,
And gnash beside the streams of fire, and wail
Your foodless teeth. Geryon, arise! and Gorgon,
Chimaera, and thou Sphinx, subtlest of fiends,
Who ministered to Thebes Ileaven's poison'd wine,
Unnatural love, and more unnatural hate:
These shall perform your task.
Finst Funy.
Oh, mercy! mercy!
We die with our desire: drive us not back
Mercury.
Crouch then in silence.
Awful Sufferer!
To thee unwilling, most unwillingly
I come, by the great Father's will driven down,
To execute a doom of new revenge.
Alas! I pity thee, and hate myself
That I can do no more: aye from thy sight
Returning, for a season, heaven seems hell,
So thy worn form pursues me night and day,
Smiling reproach. Wise art thou, firm and good,
But vainly wouldst stand forth alone in strife
Against the Omnipotent; as yon clear lamps
That measure and divide the weary years
From which there is no refuge, long have taught
And long must teach. Even now thy Torturer arms
With the strange might of unimagined pains
The powers who scheme slow agonies in Hell,
And my commission is to lead them here,
Or what more subtle, foul, or savage fiends
People the abyss, and leave them to their task.
Be it not so there is a secret known
To thee, and to none else of living things,
Which may transfer the sceptre of wide Heaven,
The fear of which perplexes the Supreme:
Clothe it in words, and bid it clasp his throne
In intercession; bend thy soul in prayer,
And like a suppliant in some gorgeous fane,
Let the will kneel within thy haughty heart:
For benefits and meek submission tame
The fiercest and the mightiest.
proxirth eus.
Evil minds
Change good to their own nature. I gave all
Ile has; and in return he chains me here
Years, ages, night and day: whether the Sun
Split my parched skin, or in the moony night
The crystal-winged snow cling round my hair:
Whilst my beloved race is trampled down
By his thought-executing ministers.
Such is the tyrants' recompense: "t is just:
He who is evil can receive no good;
And for a world bestowed, or a friend lost,
He can feel hate, fear, shame; not gratitude:
He but requites me for his own misdeed.
Kindness to such is keen reproach, which breaks
With bitter stings the light sleep of Revenge.
Submission, thou dost know I cannot try:
For what submission but that fatal word,
The death-seal of mankind's captivity,
Like the Sicilian's hair-suspended sword,
Which trembles o'er his crown, would he accept,

Or could I yield” which yet I will not yield. Let others flatter Crime, where it sits throned In brief Omnipotence: secure are they: For Justice, when triumphant, will weep down Pity, not punishment, on her own wrongs, Too much avenged by those who crt. I wait, Enduring thus, the retributive hour Which since we spake is even nearer now. | But hark, the hell-hounds clamour: fear delay: Behold Heaven lowers under thy Father's frown. Mencuity. Oh, that we might be spared 1 to inflict, And thou to suffer! Once more answer me: Thou knowest not the period of Jove's power? | Paomi Et he us. I know but this, that it must come.

Menu unt. Alas: | Thou canst not count thy years to come of pain PROM ETH Eus. They last while Jove must reign: nor more, nor less Do I desire or fear. M Ericu ay. Yet pause, and plunge Into Eternity, where recorded time, Even all that we imagine, age on age, Seems but a point, and the reluctant mind Flags wearily in its unending flight, Till it sink, dizzy, blind, lost, shelterless; Perchance it has not number'd the slow years Which thou must spend in torture, unreprieved phom era Eus.

| Perchance no thought can count them, yet they pass.

men cup Y. If thou might'st dwell among the Gods the while, Lapp'd in voluptuous joy? pnometheus. I would not quit This bleak ravine, these unrepentant pains.

Mencu ay. Alas! I wonder at, yet pity thee. phoniet heus. Pity the self-despising slaves of Heaven, Not me, within whose mind sits peace serene, As light in the sun, throned; how vain is talk! Call up the fiends. I owe. O, sister, look! White fire Has cloven to the roots von huge snow-loaded cedar; How fearfully God's thunder howls behind!

m eacuity. I must obey his words and thine: alas! Most heavily remorse hangs at my heart! PANThe A. | See where the child of Heaven, with winged feet, Runs down the slanted sunlight of the dawn. to N e.

Dear sister, close thy plumes over thine eyes
Lest thou behold and die: they come: they come
Blackening the birth of day with countless wings,
And hollow underneath, like death.

thl ad fu ay. Champion of Heaven's slaves! ph oviet n sus. He whom some dreadful voice invokes is here, Prometheus, the chain'd Titan. Horrible forms, What and who are ye? Never yet there came Phantasms so foul through monster-teeming Hell From the all-miscreative brain of Jove; Whilst I behold such execrable shapes, Methinks I grow like what I contemplate, And laugh and stare in loathsome sympathy. Finst Fu a Y. We are the ministers of pain, and fear, And disappointment, and mistrust, and hate, And clinging crime; and as lean dogs pursue Through wood and lake some struck and sobbing fawn, We track all things that weep, and bleed, and live, When the great King betrays them to our will. PR own Ethe us. Oh! many fearful natures in one name, I know ye; and these lakes and echoes know The darkness and the clangour of your wings. But why more hideous than your loathed selves Gather ye up in legions from the deep? second furty. We knew not that: Sisters, rejoice, rejoice! PROM ET u e. Us. Can aught exult in its deformity? second furt Y. The beauty of delight makes lovers glad, Gazing on one another: so are we. As from the rose which the pale priestess kneels To gather for her festal crown of flowers The aerial crimson falls, flushing her cheek, So from our victim's destined agony The shade which is our form invests us round, Else we are shapeless as our mother Night. prioxirth Eus. I laugh your power, and his who sent you here, To lowest scorn. Pour forth the cup of pain. Finst Funy. Thou thinkest we will rend thee bone from bone, And nerve from nerve, working like fire within : Pino Mettle us. Pain is my element, as hate is thine; Ye rend me now : I care not. second fulf. Y. Dost imagine We will but laugh into thy lidless eyes? proxi etheus. I weigh not what ye do, but what ye suffer, Being evil. Cruel was the power which called You, or aught else so wretched, into light. thi Rix fur Y. Thou think'st we will live through thee, one by one, Like animal life, and though we can obscure not The soul which burns within, that we will dwell Beside it, like a vain loud multitude Vexing the self-content of wisest men: That we will be dread thought beneath thy brain, And foul desire round thine astonish'd heart, And blood within thy labyrinthine veins Crawling like agony. Proai etheus. Why, ye are thus now; Yet am I king over myself, and rule

The torturing and conflicting throngs within, As Jove rules you when Hell grows mutinous.

chor US or funirs. From the ends of the earth, from the ends of the earth, Where the night has its grave and the morning its birth, Come, come, come ! Oh, ye who shake hills with the scream of your mirth, When cities sink howling in ruin; and ye Who with wingless footsteps trample the sea, And close upon Shipwreck and Famine's track, Sit chattering with joy on the foodless wreck: Come, come, come! Leave the bed, low, cold, and red, Strew'd beneath a nation dead; Leave the hatred, as in ashes Fire is left for future burning: It will burst in bloodier flashes When ye stir it, soon returning: Leave the self-contempt implanted In young spirits, sense-enchanted, Misery's yet unkindled fuel: Leave Hell's secrets half unchanted, To the maniac dreamer; cruel More than ye can be with hate Is he with fear. Come, come, come ! We are steaming up from Hell's wide gate, And we burthen the blasts of the atmosphere, But vainly we toil till ye come here.

nonr. Sister, I hear the thunder of new wings. PA nthe A. These solid mountains quiver with the sound Even as the tremulous air: their shadows make The space within my plumes more black than night.

Finst FURY. Your call was as a winged car, Driven on whirlwinds fast and far; It rapt us from red gulfs of war.

SEcond Fu RY. From wide cities, famine-wasted;

Thind Fu RY. Groans half heard, and blood untasted;

younth runy. Kingly conclaves, stern and cold, Where blood with gold is bought and sold;

fifth FURY. From the furnace, white and hot, In which—

A runwr. Speak not ; whisper not : I know all that ye would tell, But to speak might break the spell Which must bend the Invincible, The stern of thought; He yet defies the deepest power of Ilell.

FuRy. Tear the veil'

A Nothen ruby. It is torn.

cho atts. The pale stars of the morn Shine on a misery dire to be borne. Dost thou faint, mighty Titan? We laugh thee to scorn. Dost thou boast the clear knowledge thou waken'dst for

Then was kindled within him a thirst which outran
Those perishing waters; a thirst of fierce fever,
liope, love, doubt, desire, which consume him for ever.
One came forth of gentle worth,
Smiling on the sanguine earth;
His words outlived him, like swift poison
Withering up truth, peace, and pity.
Look 1 where round the wide horizou
Many a million-peopled city
Vomits smoke in the bright air.
Mark that outcry of despair'
'T is his mild and gentle ghost
Wailing for the faith he kindled:
Look again the flames almost
To a glow-worm's lamp have dwindled :
The survivors round the embers
Gather in dread.
Joy, joy, joy!
Past ages crowd on thee, but each one remembers;
And the future is dark, and the present is spread
Like a pillow of thorns for thy slumberless head.

semi ich oftus I. Drops of bloody agony flow From his white and quivering brow. Grant a little respite now : See a disenchanted nation Springs like day from desolation; To Truth its state is dedicate, And Freedom leads it forth, her mate; A legion'd band of linked brothers, Whom Love calls children—

semi chorus it. 'T is another's : See how kindred murder kin' 'T is the vintage-time for death and sin. Blood, like new wine, bubbles within: Till Despair smothers The struggling world, which slaves and tyrants win. [All the Fusies vanish, except one.

lox f. Hark, sister! what a low yet dreadful groan Quite unsuppress'd is tearing up the heart Of the good Titan, as storms tear the deep, And beasts hear the sea moan in inland caves. Darest thou observe how the fiends torture him * PANTHEA. Alas! I look'd forth twice, but will no more. 1 on E. What didst thou see : Paxton ea. A woful sight: a youth With patient looks nail'd to a crucifix. lone. What next?

Pantnea. The heaven around, the earth below Was peopled with thick shapes of human death, All horrible, and wrought by human hands, And sonne appear'd the work of human hearts, For men were slowly kill'd by frowns and smiles: And other sights too foul to speak and live Were wandering by. Let us not tempt worse fear By looking forth : those groans are grief enough. Fuay. Behold an emblem: those who do endure

Deep wrongs for man, and scorn, and chains, but heap

Thousandfold torment on themselves and him. phoMet in Eus. Remit the anguish of that lighted stare; Close those wan lips; let that thorn-wounded brow Stream not with blood; it mingles with thy tears! Fix, fix those tortured orbs in peace and death, So thy sick throes shake not that crucifix, So those pale fingers play not with thy gore. O, horrible! Thy name I will not speak, It hath become a curse. I see, I see The wise, the mild, the lofty, and the just, Whom thy slaves hate for being like to thee, Some hunted by foul lies from their heart's home, An early-chosen, late-lamented home; As hooded ounces cling to the driven hind; Some link'd to corpses in unwholesome cells: Some—Hear I not the multitude laugh loud — Impaled in lingering fire: and mighty realms Float by my feet, like sea-uprooted isles, Whose sons are kneaded down in common blood By the red light of their own burning homes. Fu RY. Blood thou canst see, and fire; and canst hear groans: Worse things unheard, unseen, remain behind. Prometheus. Worse 2 ru RY. In each human heart terror survives The ruin it has gorged : the loftiest fear All that they would disdain to think were true: Hypocrisy and custom make their minds The fanes of many a worship, now outworn. They dare not devise good for man's estate, And yet they know not that they do not dare. The good want power, but to weep barren tears. The powerful goodness want : worse need for them. The wise want love; and those who love want wisdom; And all best things are thus confused to ill. Many are strong and rich, and would be just, But live among their suffering fellow-men As if none felt: they know not what they do. pro Metii eus. Thy words are like a cloud of winged snakes; And yet I pity those they torture not.

Nor would I seek it: for, though dread revenge,
This is defeat, fierce king ! not victory.
The sights with which thou torturest gird my soul
With new endurance, till the hour arrives
When they shall be no types of things which are.
PANTHEA.
Alas! what sawest thou?
- PROM Etheus.

There are two woes;
To speak and to behold; thou spare me one.
Names are there, Nature's sacred watch-words, they
Were borne aloft in bright emblazonry;
The nations throng'd around, and cried aloud,
As with one voice, Truth, liberty, and love!
Suddenly fierce confusion fell from heaven
Among them: there was strife, deceit, and fear:
Tyrants rush'd in, and did divide the spoil.
This was the shadow of the truth I saw.
The EARTH.
I felt thy torture, son, with such mix'd joy
As pain and virtue give. To cheer thy state
I bid ascend those subtle and fair spirits,
Whose homes are the dim caves of human thought,
And who inhabit, as birds wing the wind,
Its world-surrounding ether: they behold
Beyond that twilight realm, as in a glass,
The future: may they speak comfort to thee!
Panth ea.
Look, sister, where a troop of spirits gather,
Like flocks of clouds in spring's delightful weather,
Thronging in the blue air :

chorus of spiralts. From unremember'd ages we Gentle guides and guardians be Of heaven-oppress'd mortality; And we breathe, and sicken not, The atmosphere of human thought : Be it dim, and dank, and grey, Like a storm-extinguish'd day, Travell'd o'er by dying gleams; Be it bright as all between Cloudless skies and windless streams, Silent, liquid, and serene; As the birds within the wind, As the fish within the wave, As the thoughts of man's own mind Float through all above the grave; We make these our liquid lair, Voyaging cloudlike and unpent Through the boundless clement: Thence we bear the prophecy Which begins and ends in thee!

Ione.

More yet come, one by one: the air around them Looks radiant as the air around a star.