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    Selected Poems and Prose

    Page 28
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      Shaken to their roots, as do the mountains now.

      Panthea

      Look how the gusty sea of mist is breaking

      In crimson foam, even at our feet!—it rises

      45As Ocean at the enchantment of the moon

      Round foodless men wrecked on some oozy isle.

      Asia

      The fragments of the cloud are scattered up;

      The wind that lifts them disentwines my hair;

      Its billows now sweep o’er mine eyes—my brain

      50Grows dizzy—seest thou shapes within the mist?

      Panthea

      A countenance with beckoning smiles—there burns

      An azure fire within its golden locks—

      Another and another—hark! they speak!

      Song of Spirits

      To the Deep, to the Deep,

      55 Down, down!

      Through the shade of Sleep,

      Through the cloudy strife

      Of Death and of Life;

      Through the veil and the bar

      60 Of things which seem and are

      Even to the steps of the remotest throne,

      Down, down!

      While the sound whirls around,

      Down, down!

      65 As the fawn draws the hound,

      As the lightning the vapour,

      As a weak moth the taper;

      Death, Despair; Love, Sorrow;

      Time both; to-day, to-morrow;

      70As steel obeys the spirit of the stone,

      Down, down!

      Through the grey, void Abysm,

      Down, down!

      Where the air is no prism,

      75 And the moon and stars are not,

      And the cavern-crags wear not

      The radiance of Heaven,

      Nor the gloom to Earth given;

      Where there is One pervading, One alone,

      80 Down, down!

      In the depth of the Deep,

      Down, down!

      Like veiled lightning asleep,

      Like the spark nursed in embers,

      85 The last look Love remembers,

      Like a diamond, which shines

      On the dark wealth of mines,

      A spell is treasured but for thee alone.

      Down, down!

      90 We have bound thee, we guide thee

      Down, down!

      With the bright form beside thee;

      Resist not the weakness—

      Such strength is in meekness

      95 That the Eternal, the Immortal,

      Must unloose through life’s portal

      The snake-like Doom coiled underneath his throne

      By that alone!

      Scene iv

      The Cave of DEMOGORGON. ASIA and PANTHEA.

      Panthea

      What veiled form sits on that ebon throne?

      Asia

      The veil has fallen.

      Panthea

      I see a mighty Darkness

      Filling the seat of power; and rays of gloom

      Dart round, as light from the meridian sun,

      5Ungazed upon and shapeless—neither limb,

      Nor form, nor outline; yet we feel it is

      A living Spirit.

      Demogorgon

      Ask what thou wouldst know.

      Asia

      What canst thou tell?

      Demogorgon

      All things thou dar’st demand.

      Asia

      Who made the living world?

      Demogorgon

      God.

      Asia

      Who made all

      10That it contains—thought, passion, reason, will,

      Imagination?

      Demogorgon

      God: Almighty God.

      Asia

      Who made that sense which, when the winds of spring

      In rarest visitation, or the voice

      Of one beloved heard in youth alone,

      15Fills the faint eyes with falling tears which dim

      The radiant looks of unbewailing flowers,

      And leaves this peopled earth a solitude

      When it returns no more?

      Demogorgon

      Merciful God.

      Asia

      And who made terror, madness, crime, remorse,

      20Which from the links of the great chain of things

      To every thought within the mind of man

      Sway and drag heavily—and each one reels

      Under the load towards the pit of death;

      Abandoned hope, and love that turns to hate;

      25And self-contempt, bitterer to drink than blood;

      Pain, whose unheeded and familiar speech

      Is howling and keen shrieks, day after day;

      And Hell, or the sharp fear of Hell?

      Demogorgon

      He reigns.

      Asia

      Utter his name: a world pining in pain

      30Asks but his name: curses shall drag him down.

      Demogorgon

      He reigns.

      Asia

      I feel, I know it: who?

      Demogorgon

      He reigns.

      Asia

      Who reigns? There was the Heaven and Earth at first,

      And Light and Love; then Saturn, from whose throne

      Time fell, an envious shadow; such the state

      35Of the earth’s primal spirits beneath his sway,

      As the calm joy of flowers and living leaves

      Before the wind or sun has withered them

      And semi-vital worms; but he refused

      The birthrights of their being, knowledge, power,

      40The skill which wields the elements, the thought

      Which pierces this dim universe like light,

      Self-empire, and the majesty of love;

      For thirst of which they fainted. Then Prometheus

      Gave wisdom, which is strength, to Jupiter,

      45And with this law alone: ‘Let man be free’,

      Clothed him with the dominion of wide Heaven.

      To know nor faith, nor love, nor law; to be

      Omnipotent but friendless, is to reign;

      And Jove now reigned; for on the race of man

      50First famine, and then toil, and then disease,

      Strife, wounds, and ghastly death unseen before,

      Fell; and the unseasonable seasons drove,

      With alternating shafts of frost and fire,

      Their shelterless, pale tribes to mountain caves;

      55And in their desert hearts fierce wants he sent,

      And mad disquietudes, and shadows idle

      Of unreal good, which levied mutual war,

      So ruining the lair wherein they raged.

      Prometheus saw, and waked the legioned hopes

      60Which sleep within folded Elysian flowers,

      Nepenthe, Moly, Amaranth, fadeless blooms,

      That they might hide with thin and rainbow wings

      The shape of Death; and Love he sent to bind

      The disunited tendrils of that vine

      65Which bears the wine of life, the human heart;

      And he tamed fire which, like some beast of prey,

      Most terrible, but lovely, played beneath

      The frown of man; and tortured to his will

      Iron and gold, the slaves and signs of power,

      70And gems and poisons, and all subtlest forms

      Hidden beneath the mountains and the waves.

      He gave man speech, and speech created thought,

      Which is the measure of the universe;

      And Science struck the thrones of Earth and Heaven,

      75Which shook, but fell not; and the harmonious mind

      Poured itself forth in all-prophetic song;

      And music lifted up the listening spirit

      Until it walked, exempt from mortal care,

      Godlike, o’er the clear billows of sweet sound;

      80And human hands first mimicked and then mocked,

      With moulded limbs more lovely than its own,

      The human form, t
    ill marble grew divine,

      And mothers, gazing, drank the love men see

      Reflected in their race—behold, and perish.

      85He told the hidden power of herbs and springs,

      And Disease drank and slept. Death grew like sleep.

      He taught the implicated orbits woven

      Of the wide-wandering stars, and how the sun

      Changes his lair, and by what secret spell

      90The pale moon is transformed, when her broad eye

      Gazes not on the interlunar sea;

      He taught to rule, as life directs the limbs,

      The tempest-winged chariots of the Ocean,

      And the Celt knew the Indian. Cities then

      95Were built, and through their snow-like columns flowed

      The warm winds, and the azure aether shone,

      And the blue sea and shadowy hills were seen.

      Such, the alleviations of his state,

      Prometheus gave to man—for which he hangs

      100Withering in destined pain: but who rains down

      Evil, the immedicable plague, which, while

      Man looks on his creation like a God

      And sees that it is glorious, drives him on

      The wreck of his own will, the scorn of Earth,

      105The outcast, the abandoned, the alone?

      Not Jove: while yet his frown shook Heaven, aye, when

      His adversary from adamantine chains

      Cursed him, he trembled like a slave. Declare

      Who is his master? Is he too a slave?

      Demogorgon

      110All spirits are enslaved which serve things evil:

      Thou knowest if Jupiter be such or no.

      Asia

      Whom called’st thou God?

      Demogorgon

      I spoke but as ye speak,

      For Jove is the supreme of living things.

      Asia

      Who is the master of the slave?

      Demogorgon

      If the Abysm

      115Could vomit forth its secrets:—but a voice

      Is wanting, the deep truth is imageless;

      For what would it avail to bid thee gaze

      On the revolving world? what to bid speak

      Fate, Time, Occasion, Chance and Change? To these

      120All things are subject but eternal Love.

      Asia

      So much I asked before, and my heart gave

      The response thou hast given; and of such truths

      Each to itself must be the oracle.

      One more demand; and do thou answer me

      125As my own soul would answer, did it know

      That which I ask. Prometheus shall arise

      Henceforth the Sun of this rejoicing world:

      When shall the destined hour arrive?

      Demogorgon

      Behold!

      Asia

      The rocks are cloven, and through the purple night

      130I see cars drawn by rainbow-winged steeds

      Which trample the dim winds: in each there stands

      A wild-eyed charioteer, urging their flight.

      Some look behind, as fiends pursued them there,

      And yet I see no shapes but the keen stars:

      135Others, with burning eyes, lean forth, and drink

      With eager lips the wind of their own speed,

      As if the thing they loved fled on before,

      And now, even now, they clasped it. Their bright locks

      Stream like a comet’s flashing hair: they all

      140Sweep onward.

      Demogorgon

      These are the immortal Hours,

      Of whom thou didst demand. One waits for thee.

      Asia

      A spirit with a dreadful countenance

      Checks its dark chariot by the craggy gulf.

      Unlike thy brethren, ghastly charioteer,

      145What art thou? Whither wouldst thou bear me? Speak!

      Spirit

      I am the shadow of a destiny

      More dread than is my aspect: ere yon planet

      Has set, the Darkness which ascends with me

      Shall wrap in lasting night Heaven’s kingless throne.

      Asia

      150What meanest thou?

      Panthea

      That terrible shadow floats

      Up from its throne, as may the lurid smoke

      Of earthquake-ruined cities o’er the sea.

      Lo! it ascends the Car … the coursers fly

      Terrified: watch its path among the stars

      155Blackening the night!

      Asia

      Thus I am answered: strange!

      Panthea

      See, near the verge, another chariot stays;

      An ivory shell inlaid with crimson fire,

      Which comes and goes within its sculptured rim

      Of delicate strange tracery; the young Spirit

      160That guides it has the dove-like eyes of hope;

      How its soft smiles attracts the soul!—as light

      Lures winged insects through the lampless air.

      Spirit

      My coursers are fed with the lightning,

      They drink of the whirlwind’s stream,

      165And when the red morning is bright’ning

      They bathe in the fresh sunbeam;

      They have strength for their swiftness, I deem:

      Then ascend with me, Daughter of Ocean.

      I desire—and their speed makes night kindle;

      170 I fear—they outstrip the Typhoon;

      Ere the cloud piled on Atlas can dwindle

      We encircle the earth and the moon:

      We shall rest from long labours at noon:

      Then ascend with me, Daughter of Ocean.

      Scene v

      The Car pauses within a Cloud on the Top of a snowy Mountain. ASIA, PANTHEA, and the SPIRIT OF THE HOUR.

      Spirit

      On the brink of the night and the morning

      My coursers are wont to respire;

      But the Earth has just whispered a warning

      That their flight must be swifter than fire:

      5 They shall drink the hot speed of desire!

      Asia

      Thou breathest on their nostrils, but my breath

      Would give them swifter speed.

      Spirit

      Alas! it could not.

      Panthea

      Oh Spirit! pause, and tell whence is the light

      Which fills this cloud—the sun is yet unrisen.

      Spirit

      10The sun will rise not until noon. Apollo

      Is held in Heaven by wonder; and the light

      Which fills this vapour, as the aërial hue

      Of fountain-gazing roses fills the water,

      Flows from thy mighty sister.

      Panthea

      Yes, I feel …

      Asia

      15What is it with thee, sister? Thou art pale.

      Panthea

      How thou art changed! I dare not look on thee;

      I feel but see thee not. I scarce endure

      The radiance of thy beauty. Some good change

      Is working in the elements, which suffer

      20Thy presence thus unveiled. The Nereids tell

      That on the day when the clear hyaline

      Was cloven at thy uprise, and thou didst stand

      Within a veined shell, which floated on

      Over the calm floor of the crystal sea,

      25Among the Aegean isles, and by the shores

      Which bear thy name, love, like the atmosphere

      Of the sun’s fire filling the living world,

      Burst from thee, and illumined Earth and Heaven

      And the deep ocean and the sunless caves

      30And all that dwells within them; till grief cast

      Eclipse upon the soul from which it came:

      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.

      35Hearest thou not sounds
    i’ the air which speak the love

      Of all articulate beings? Feelest thou not

      The inanimate winds enamoured of thee? List!

      [Music

      Asia

      Thy words are sweeter than aught else but his

      Whose echoes they are: yet all love is sweet,

      40Given or returned. Common as light is love,

      And its familiar voice wearies not ever.

      Like the wide Heaven, the all-sustaining air,

      It makes the reptile equal to the God:

      They who inspire it most are fortunate,

      45As I am now; but those who feel it most

      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;

      50And 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

      55 Through the vest which seems to hide them

      As the radiant lines of morning

      Through the clouds ere they divide them;

      And this atmosphere divinest

      Shrouds thee wheresoe’er thou shinest.

      60Fair 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,

      65As 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,

      70Till they fail, as I am failing,

      Dizzy, lost … yet unbewailing!

      Asia

      My soul is an enchanted boat

      Which, like a sleeping swan, doth float

     


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