The Complete Poems of Percy Bysshe Shelley

  And first, one pale and breathless passed us by,

  And stared and spoke not;—then with piercing cry

  A troop of wild-eyed women, by the shrieks

  2350

  Of their own terror driven,—tumultuously

  Hither and thither hurrying with pale cheeks,

  Each one from fear unknown a sudden refuge seeks—

  III

  Then, rallying cries of treason and of danger

  Resounded: and—‘They come! to arms! to arms!

  2355

  The Tyrant is amongst us, and the stranger

  Comes to enslave us in his name! to arms!’

  In vain: for Panic, the pale fiend who charms

  Strength to forswear her right, those millions swept

  Like waves before the tempest—these alarms

  2360

  Came to me, as to know their cause I lept

  On the gate’s turret, and in rage and grief and scorn I wept!

  IV

  For to the North I saw the town on fire,

  And its red light made morning pallid now,

  Which burst over wide Asia;—louder, higher,

  2365

  The yells of victory and the screams of woe

  I heard approach, and saw the throng below

  Stream through the gates like foam-wrought waterfalls

  Fed from a thousand storms—the fearful glow

  Of bombs flares overhead—at intervals

  2370

  The red artillery’s bolt mangling among them falls.

  V

  And now the horsemen come—and all was done

  Swifter than I have spoken—I beheld

  Their red swords flash in the unrisen sun.

  I rushed among the rout, to have repelled

  2375

  That miserable flight—one moment quelled

  By voice and looks and eloquent despair,

  As if reproach from their own hearts withheld

  Their steps, they stood; but soon came pouring there

  New multitudes, and did those rallied bands o’erbear.

  VI

  2380

  I strove, as, drifted on some cataract

  By irresistible streams, some wretch might strive

  Who hears its fatal roar:—the files compact

  Whelmed me, and from the gate availed to drive

  With quickening impulse, as each bolt did rive

  2385

  Their ranks with bloodier chasm:—into the plain

  Disgorged at length the dead and the alive

  In one dread mass, were parted, and the stain

  Of blood, from mortal steel fell o’er the fields like rain.

  VII

  For now the despot’s bloodhounds with their prey

  2390

  Unarmed and unaware, were gorging deep

  Their gluttony of death; the loose array

  Of horsemen o’er the wide fields murdering sweep,

  And with loud laughter for their tyrant reap

  A harvest sown with other hopes, the while,

  2395

  Far overhead, ships from Propontis keep

  A killing rain of fire:—when the waves smile

  As sudden earthquakes light many a volcano-isle,

  VIII

  Thus sudden, unexpected feast was spread

  For the carrion-fowls of Heaven.—I saw the sight—

  2400

  I moved—I lived—as o’er the heaps of dead,

  Whose stony eyes glared in the morning light

  I trod;—to me there came no thought of flight,

  But with loud cries of scorn which whoso heard

  That dreaded death, felt in his veins the might

  2405

  Of virtuous shame return, the crowd I stirred,

  And desperation’s hope in many hearts recurred.

  IX

  A band of brothers gathering round me, made,

  Although unarmed, a steadfast front, and still

  Retreating, with stern looks beneath the shade

  2410

  Of gathered eyebrows, did the victors fill

  With doubt even in success; deliberate will

  Inspired our growing troop, not overthrown

  It gained the shelter of a grassy hill,

  And ever still our comrades were hewn down,

  2415

  And their defenceless limbs beneath our footsteps strown.

  X

  Immovably we stood—in joy I found,

  Beside me then, firm as a giant pine

  Among the mountain-vapours driven around,

  The old man whom I loved—his eyes divine

  2420

  With a mild look of courage answered mine,

  And my young friend was near, and ardently

  His hand grasped mine a moment—now the line

  Of war extended, to our rallying cry

  As myriads flocked in love and brotherhood to die.

  XI

  2425

  For ever while the sun was climbing Heaven

  The horseman hewed our unarmed myriads down

  Safely, though when by thirst of carnage driven

  Too near, those slaves were swiftly overthrown

  By hundreds leaping on them:—flesh and bone

  2430

  Soon made our ghastly ramparts; then the shaft

  Of the artillery from the sea was thrown

  More fast and fiery, and the conquerors laughed

  In pride to hear the wind our screams of torment waft.

  XII

  For on one side alone the hill gave shelter,

  2435

  So vast that phalanx of unconquered men,

  And there the living in the blood did welter

  Of the dead and dying, which, in that green glen,

  Like stifled torrents, made a plashy fen

  Under the feet—thus was the butchery waged

  While the sun clomb Heaven’s eastern steep—but when

  It ’gan to sink—a fiercer combat raged,

  For in more doubtful strife the armies were engaged.

  XIII

  Within a cave upon the hill were found

  A bundle of rude pikes, the instrument

  2445

  Of those who war but on their native ground

  For natural rights: a shout of joyance sent

  Even from our hearts the wide air pierced and rent,

  As those few arms the bravest and the best

  Seized, and each sixth, thus armed, did now present

  2450

  A line which covered and sustained the rest,

  A confident phalanx, which the foe on every side invest.

  XIV

  That onset turned the foes to flight almost;

  But soon they saw their present strength, and knew

  That coming night would to our resolute host

  2455

  Bring victory; so dismounting, close they drew

  Their glittering files, and then the combat grew

  Unequal but most horrible;—and ever

  Our myriads, whom the swift bolt overthrew,

  Or the red sword, failed like a mountain-river

  2460

  Which rushes forth in foam to sink in sands for ever.

  XV

  Sorrow and shame, to see with their own kind

  Our human brethren mix, like beasts of blood,

  To mutual ruin armed by one behind

  Who sits and scoffs!—That friend so mild and good,

  2465

  Who like its shadow near my youth had stood,

  Was stabbed!—my old preserver’s hoary hair

  With the flesh clinging to its roots, was strewed

  Under my feet!—I lost all sense or care,

  And like the rest I grew desperate and unaware.

  XVI

  2470

  The battle became ghastlier—in the midst

  I paused, a
nd saw, how ugly and how fell

  O Hate! thou art, even when thy life thou shedd’st

  For love. The ground in many a little dell

  Was broken, up and down whose steeps befell

  2475

  Alternate victory and defeat, and there

  The combatants with rage most horrible

  Strove, and their eyes started with cracking stare,

  And impotent their tongues they lolled into the air,

  XVII

  Flaccid and foamy, like a mad dog’s hanging;

  2480

  Want, and Moon-madness, and the pest’s swift Bane

  When its shafts smite—while yet its bow is twanging—

  Have each their mark and sign—some ghastly stain;

  And this was thine, O War! of hate and pain

  Thou loathèd slave. I saw all shapes of death

  2485

  And ministered to many, o’er the plain

  While carnage in the sunbeam’s warmth did seethe,

  Till twilight o’er the east wove her serenest wreath.

  XVIII

  The few who yet survived, resolute and firm

  Around me fought. At the decline of day

  2490

  Winding above the mountain’s snowy term

  New banners shone: they quivered in the ray

  Of the sun’s unseen orb—ere night the array

  Of fresh troops hemmed us in—of those brave bands

  I soon survived alone—and now I lay

  2495

  Vanquished and faint, the grasp of bloody hands

  I felt, and saw on high the glare of falling brands:

  XIX

  When on my foes a sudden terror came,

  And they fled, scattering—lo! with reinless speed

  A black Tartarian horse of giant frame

  2500

  Conies trampling over the dead, the living bleed

  Beneath the hoofs of that tremendous steed,

  On which, like to an Angel, robed in white,

  Sate one waving a sword;—the hosts recede

  And fly, as through their ranks with awful might,

  2505

  Sweeps in the shadow of eve that Phantom swift and bright;

  XX

  And its path made a solitude.—I rose

  And marked its coming: it relaxed its course

  As it approached me, and the wind that flows

  Through night, bore accents to mine ear whose force

  2510

  Might create smiles in death—the Tartar horse

  Paused, and I saw the shape its might which swayed,

  And heard her musical pants, like the sweet source

  Of waters in the desert, as she said,

  ‘Mount with me, Laon, now!’—I rapidly obeyed.

  XXI

  Then: ‘Away! away!’ she cried, and stretched her sword

  As ’twere a scourge over the courser’s head,

  And lightly shook the reins.—We spake no word,

  But like the vapour of the tempest fled

  Over the plain; her dark hair was dispread

  2520

  Like the pine’s locks upon the lingering blast;

  Over mine eyes its shadowy strings it spread

  Fitfully, and the hills and streams fled fast,

  As o’er their glimmering forms the steed’s broad shadow passed.

  XXII

  And his hoofs ground the rocks to fire and dust,

  2525

  His strong sides made the torrents rise in spray,

  And turbulence, as of a whirlwind’s gust

  Surrounded us;—and still away! away!

  Through the desert night we sped, while she alway

  Gazed on a mountain which we neared, whose crest,

  2530

  Crowned with a marble ruin, in the ray

  Of the obscure stars gleamed;—its rugged breast

  The steed strained up, and then his impulse did arrest.

  XXIII

  A rocky hill which overhung the Ocean:—

  From that lone ruin, when the steed that panted

  2535

  Paused, might be heard the murmur of the motion

  Of waters, as in spots for ever haunted

  By the choicest winds of Heaven, which are enchanted

  To music, by the wand of Solitude,

  That wizard wild, and the far tents implanted

  2540

  Upon the plain, be seen by those who stood

  Thence marking the dark shore of Ocean’s curved flood.

  XXIV

  One moment these were heard and seen—another

  Passed; and the two who stood beneath that night,

  Each only heard, or saw, or felt the other;

  2545

  As from the lofty steed she did alight,

  Cythna, (for, from the eyes whose deepest light

  Of love and sadness made my lips feel pale

  With influence strange of mournfullest delight,

  My own sweet Cythna looked), with joy did quail,

  2550

  And felt her strength in tears of human weakness fail.

  XXV

  And for a space in my embrace she rested,

  Her head on my unquiet heart reposing,

  While my faint arms her languid frame invested:

  At length she looked on me, and half unclosing

  Her tremulous lips, said: ‘Friend, thy bands were losing

  The battle, as I stood before the King

  In bonds.—I burst them then, and swiftly choosing

  The time, did seize a Tartar’s sword, and spring

  Upon his horse, and, swift as on the whirlwind’s wing,

  XXVI

  2560

  ‘Have thou and I been borne beyond pursuer,

  And we are here.’—Then turning to the steed,

  She pressed the white moon on his front with pure

  And rose-like lips, and many a fragrant weed

  From the green ruin plucked, that he might feed;—

  2565

  But I to a stone seat that Maiden led,

  And kissing her fair eyes, said, ‘Thou hast need

  Of rest,’ and I heaped up the courser’s bed

  In a green mossy nook, with mountain-flowers dispread.

  XXVII

  Within that ruin, where a shattered portal

  2570

  Looks to the eastern stars, abandoned now

  By man, to be the home of things immortal,

  Memories, like awful ghosts which come and go.

  And must inherit all he builds below,

  When he is gone, a hall stood; o’er whose roof

  2575

  Fair clinging weeds with ivy pale did grow,

  Clasping its gray rents with a verdurous woof,

  A hanging dome of leaves, a canopy moon-proof.

  XXVIII

  The autumnal winds, as if spell-bound, had made

  A natural couch of leaves in that recess,

  2580

  Which seasons none disturbed, but, in the shade

  Of flowering parasites, did Spring love to dress

  With their sweet blooms the wintry loneliness

  Of those dead leaves, shedding their stars, whene’er

  The wandering wind her nurslings might caress;

  2585

  Whose intertwining fingers ever there

  Made music wild and soft that filled the listening air.

  XXIX

  We know not where we go, or what sweet dream

  May pilot us through caverns strange and fair

  Of far and pathless passion, while the stream

  2590

  Of life, our bark doth on its whirlpools bear,

  Spreading swift wings as sails to the dim air;

  Nor should we seek to know, so the devotion

  Of love and gentle thoughts be heard still there

  Louder and louder from the utmost Oce
an

  2595

  Of universal life, attuning its commotion.

  XXX

  To the pure all things are pure! Oblivion wrapped

  Our spirits, and the fearful overthrow

  Of public hope was from our being snapped,

  Though linkèd years had bound it there; for now

  2600

  A power, a thirst, a knowledge, which below

  All thoughts, like light beyond the atmosphere,

  Clothing its clouds with grace, doth ever flow,

  Came on us, as we sate in silence there,

  Beneath the golden stars of the clear azure air:—

  XXXI

  2605

  In silence which doth follow talk that causes

  The baffled heart to speak with sighs and tears,

  When wildering passion swalloweth up the pauses

  Of inexpressive speech:—the youthful years

  Which we together passed, their hopes and fears,

  2610

  The blood itself which ran within our frames,

  That likeness of the features which endears

  The thoughts expressed by them, our very names,

  And all the wingèd hours which speechless memory claims,

  XXXII

  Had found a voice—and ere that voice did pass,

  2615

  The night grew damp and dim, and through a rent

  Of the ruin where we sate, from the morass,

  A wandering Meteor by some wild wind sent,

  Hung high in the green dome, to which it lent

  A faint and pallid lustre; while the song

  2620

  Of blasts, in which its blue hair quivering bent,

  Strewed strangest sounds the moving leaves among;

  A wondrous light, the sound as of a spirit’s tongue.

  XXXIII

  The Meteor showed the leaves on which we sate,

  And Cythna’s glowing arms, and the thick ties