Will look on thy more warm and equal light

  Till her heart thaw like flakes of April snow

  And love thee.

  90

  Spirit of the Earth. What; as Asia loves Prometheus?

  Asia. Peace, wanton, thou art yet not old enough.

  Think ye by gazing on each other’s eyes

  To multiply your lovely selves, and fill

  With spherèd fires the interlunar air?

  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

  The abysses of the sky and the wide earth,

  100

  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 spherèd world.

  My vision then grew clear, and I could see

  105

  Into the mysteries of the universe:

  Dizzy as with delight I floated down,

  Winnowing the lightsome air with languid plumes,

  My coursers sought their birthplace in the sun,

  Where they henceforth will live exempt from toil,

  110

  Pasturing flowers of vegetable fire;

  And where my moonlike car will stand within

  A temple, gazed upon by Phidian forms

  Of thee, and Asia, and the Earth, and me,

  And you fair nymphs looking the love we feel,—

  115

  In memory of the tidings it has borne,—

  Beneath a dome fretted with graven flowers,

  Poised on twelve columns of resplendent stone,

  And open to the bright and liquid sky.

  Yoked to it by an amphisbaenic snake

  120

  The likeness of those wingèd steeds will mock

  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:

  125

  It was, as it is still, the pain of bliss

  To move, to breathe, to be; I wandering went

  Among the haunts and dwellings of mankind,

  And first was disappointed not to see

  Such mighty change as I had felt within

  130

  Expressed in outward things; but soon I looked,

  And behold, thrones were kingless, and men walked

  One with the other even as spirits do,

  None fawned, none trampled; hate, disdain, or fear,

  Self-love or self-contempt, on human brows

  135

  No more inscribed, as o’er the gate of hell,

  ‘All hope abandon ye who enter here;’

  None frowned, none trembled, none with eager fear

  Gazed on another’s eye of cold command,

  Until the subject of a tyrant’s will

  140

  Became, worse fate, the abject of his own,

  Which spurred him, like an outspent horse, to death.

  None wrought his lips in truth-entangling lines

  Which smiled the lie his tongue disdained to speak;

  None, with firm sneer, trod out in his own heart

  145

  The sparks of love and hope till there remained

  Those bitter ashes, a soul self-consumed,

  And the wretch crept a vampire among men,

  Infecting all with his own hideous ill;

  None talked that common, false, cold, hollow talk

  150

  Which makes the heart deny the yes it breathes,

  Yet question that unmeant hypocrisy

  With such a self-mistrust as has no name.

  And women, too, frank, beautiful, and kind

  As the free heaven which rains fresh light and dew

  155

  On the wide earth, past; gentle radiant forms,

  From custom’s evil taint exempt and pure;

  Speaking the wisdom once they could not think,

  Looking emotions once they feared to feel,

  And changed to all which once they dared not be,

  160

  Yet being now, made earth like heaven; nor pride,

  Nor jealousy, nor envy, nor ill shame,

  The bitterest of those drops of treasured gall,

  Spoilt the sweet taste of the nepenthe, love.

  Thrones, altars, judgement-seats, and prisons; wherein,

  165

  And beside which, by wretched men were borne

  Sceptres, tiaras, swords, and chains, and tomes

  Of reasoned wrong, glozed on by ignorance,

  Were like those monstrous and barbaric shapes,

  The ghosts of a no-more-remembered fame,

  170

  Which, from their unworn obelisks, look forth

  In triumph o’er the palaces and tombs

  Of those who were their conquerors: mouldering round,

  These imaged to the pride of kings and priests

  A dark yet mighty faith, a power as wide

  175

  As is the world it wasted, and are now

  But an astonishment; even so the tools

  And emblems of its last captivity,

  Amid the dwellings of the peopled earth,

  Stand, not o’erthrown, but unregarded now.

  180

  And those foul shapes, abhorred by god and man,—

  Which, under many a name and many a form

  Strange, savage, ghastly, dark and execrable,

  Were Jupiter, the tyrant of the world;

  And which the nations, panic-stricken, served

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

  Dragged to his altars soiled and garlandless,

  And slain amid men’s unreclaiming tears,

  Flattering the thing they feared, which fear was hate,—

  Frown, mouldering fast, o’er their abandoned shrines:

  190

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

  Which mimicked, as with colours idly spread,

  All men believed or hoped, is torn aside;

  The loathsome mask has fallen, the man remains

  Sceptreless, free, uncircumscribed, but man

  195

  Equal, unclassed, tribeless, and nationless,

  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,

  200

  Nor yet exempt, though ruling them like slaves,

  From chance, and death, and mutability,

  The clogs of that which else might oversoar

  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. PANTHEA and IONE are sleeping: they awaken gradually during the first Song.

  Voice of unseen Spirits.

  The pale stars are gone!

  For the sun, their swift shepherd,

  To their folds them compelling,

  In the depths of the dawn,

  5

  Hastes, in meteor-eclipsing array, and they flee

  Beyond his blue dwelling,

  As fawns flee the leopard.

  But where are ye?

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

  Here, oh, here:

  10

  We bear the bier

  Of the Father o
f many a cancelled year

  Spectres we

  Of the dead Hours be,

  We bear Time to his tomb in eternity.

  15

  Strew, oh, strew

  Hair, not yew!

  Wet the dusty pall with tears, not dew!

  Be the faded flowers

  Of Death’s bare bowers

  20

  Spread on the corpse of the King of Hours!

  Haste, oh, haste!

  As shades are chased,

  Trembling, by day, from heaven’s blue waste.

  We melt away,

  25

  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.

  30

  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 passed?

  Panthea.

  35

  They have passed;

  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.

  40

  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 glee!

  45

  They shake with emotion,

  They dance in their mirth.

  But where are ye?

  The pine boughs are singing

  Old songs with new gladness,

  50

  The billows and fountains

  Fresh music are flinging,

  Like the notes of a spirit from land and from sea;

  The storms mock the mountains

  With the thunder of gladness.

  55

  But where are ye?

  Ione. What charioteers are these?

  Panthea. Where are their 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 II.

  60

  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.

  Worse than his visions were!

  Semichorus I.

  65

  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.

  As the billows leap in the morning beams!

  Chorus.

  Weave the dance on the floor of the breeze,

  70

  Pierce with song heaven’s silent light,

  Enchant the day that too swiftly flees,

  To check its flight ere the cave of Night.

  Once the hungry Hours were hounds

  Which chased the day like a bleeding deer,

  75

  And it limped and stumbled with many wounds

  Through the nightly dells of the desert 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.

  80

  Unite!

  Panthea. See, where the Spirits of the human mind

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

  Chorus of Spirits.

  We join the throng

  Of the dance and the song,

  85

  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.

  Whence come ye, so wild and so fleet,

  90

  For sandals of lightning are on your feet,

  And your wings are soft and swift as thought,

  And your eyes are as love which is veilèd not?

  Chorus of Spirits.

  We come from the mind

  Of human kind

  95

  Which was late so dusk, and obscene, and blind,

  Now ’tis an ocean

  Of clear emotion,

  A heaven of serene and mighty motion.

  From that deep abyss

  100

  Of wonder and bliss,

  Whose caverns are crystal palaces;

  From those skiey towers

  Where Thought’s crowned powers

  Sit watching your dance, ye happy Hours!

  105

  From the dim recesses

  Of woven caresses,

  Where lovers catch ye by your loose tresses

  From the azure isles,

  Where sweet Wisdom smiles,

  110

  Delaying your ships with her siren wiles.

  From the temples high

  Of Man’s ear and eye,

  Roofed over Sculpture and Poesy;

  From the murmurings

  115

  Of the unsealed springs

  Where Science bedews her Dædal wings.

  Years after years,

  Through blood, and tears,

  And a thick hell of hatreds, and hopes, and fears;

  120

  We waded and flew,

  And the islets were few

  Where the bud-blighted flowers of happiness grew.

  Our feet now, every palm,

  Are sandalled with calm,

  125

  And the dew of our wings is a rain of balm;

  And, beyond our eyes,

  The human love lies

  Which makes all it gazes on Paradise.

  Chorus of Spirits and Hours.

  Then weave the web of the mystic measure;

  From the depths of the sky and the ends of the earth,

  Come, swift Spirits of might and of pleasure,

  Fill the dance and the music of mirth,

  As the waves of a thousand streams rush by

  To an ocean of splendour and harmony!

  Chorus of Spirits.

  135

  Our spoil is won,

  Our task is done,

  We are free to dive, or soar, or run;

  Beyond and around,

  Or within the bound

  140

  Which clips the world with darkness round.

  We’ll pass the eyes

  Of the starry skies

  Into the hoar deep to colonize;

  Death, Chaos, and Night,

  145

  From the sound of our flight,

  Shall flee, like mist from a tempest’s might.

  And Earth, Air, and Light,

  And the Spirit of Might,

  Which drives round the stars in their fiery flight;

  150

  And Love, Thought, and Breath,

  The powers that quell Death,

  Wherever we soar shall assemble beneath.

  And our singing shall build

  In the void’s loose field

  155

  A world for the Spirit of Wisdom to wield;

  We will take our plan

  From the new world of man,
/>
  And our work shall be called the Promethean.

  Chorus of Hours.

  Break the dance, and scatter the song;

  160

  Let some depart, and some remain.

  Semichorus I.

  We, beyond heaven, are driven along:

  Semichorus II.

  Us the enchantments of earth retain:

  Semichorus I.

  Ceaseless, and rapid, and fierce, and free,

  With the Spirits which build a new earth and sea,

  165

  And a heaven where yet heaven could never be.

  Semichorus II.

  Solemn, and slow, and serene, and bright,

  Leading the Day and outspeeding the Night,

  With the powers of a world of perfect light.

  Semichorus I.

  We whirl, singing loud, round the gathering sphere,

  170

  Till the trees, and the beasts, and the clouds appear

  From its chaos made calm by love, not fear.

  Semichorus II.

  We encircle the ocean and mountains of earth,

  And the happy forms of its death and birth

  Change to the music of our sweet mirth.

  Chorus of Hours and Spirits.

  175

  Break the dance, and scatter the song,

  Let some depart, and some remain,

  Wherever we fly we lead along

  In leashes, like starbeams, soft yet strong,

  The clouds that are heavy with love’s sweet rain.

  Panthea. Ha! they are gone!

  180

  Ione. Yet feel you no delight

  From the past sweetness?

  Panthea. As the bare green hill

  When some soft cloud vanishes into rain,

  Laughs with a thousand drops of sunny water