E Their Path Of Melody, Like Sisters Who Part With Sighs That They May Meet In Smiles, Turning Their Dear Disunion To An Isle Of Lovely Grief, A Wood Of Sweet Sad Thoughts; Two Visions Of Strange Radiance Float Upon The Ocean-Like Enchantment Of Strong Sound, Which Flows Intenser, Keener, Deeper Yet Under The Ground And Through The Windless Air. Ione: I See A Chariot Like That Thinnest Boat, In Which The Mother Of The Months Is Borne By Ebbing Light Into Her Western Cave, When She Upsprings From Interlunar Dreams; O'Er Which Is Curved An Orblike Canopy Of Gentle Darkness, And The Hills And Woods, Distinctly Seen Through That Dusk Aery Veil, Regard Like Shapes In An Enchanter'S Glass; Its Wheels Are Solid Clouds, Azure And Gold, Such As The Genii Of The Thunderstorm Pile On The Floor Of The Illumined Sea When The Sun Rushes Under It; They Roll And Move And Grow As With An Inward Wind; Within It Sits A Winged Infant, White Its Countenance, Like The Whiteness Of Bright Snow, Its Plumes Are As Feathers Of Sunny Frost, Its Limbs Gleam White, Through The Wind-Flowing Folds Of Its White Robe, Woof Of Ethereal Pearl. Its Hair Is White, The Brightness Of White Light Scattered In Strings; Yet Its Two Eyes Are Heavens Of Liquid Darkness, Which The Deity Within Seems Pouring, As A Storm Is Poured From Jagged Clouds, Out Of Their Arrowy Lashes, Tempering The Cold And Radiant Air Around, With Fire That Is Not Brightness; In Its Hand It Sways A Quivering Moonbeam, From Whose Point A Guiding Power Directs The Chariot'S Prow Over Its Wheeled Clouds, Which As They Roll Over The Grass, And Flowers, And Waves, Wake Sounds, Sweet As A Singing Rain Of Silver Dew. Notes: _208 Light B; Night 1820. _212 Aery B; Airy 1820. _225 Strings B, Edition 1839; String 1820. Panthea: And From The Other Opening In The Wood Rushes, With Loud And Whirlwind Harmony, A Sphere, Which Is As Many Thousand Spheres, Solid As Crystal, Yet Through All Its Mass Flow, As Through Empty Space, Music And Light: Ten Thousand Orbs Involving And Involved, Purple And Azure, White, And Green, And Golden, Sphere Within Sphere; And Every Space Between Peopled With Unimaginable Shapes, Such As Ghosts Dream Dwell In The Lampless Deep, Yet Each Inter-Transpicuous, And They Whirl Over Each Other With A Thousand Motions, Upon A Thousand Sightless Axles Spinning, And With The Force Of Self-Destroying Swiftness, Intensely, Slowly, Solemnly, Roll On, Kindling With Mingled Sounds, And Many Tones, Intelligible Words And Music Wild. With Mighty Whirl The Multitudinous Orb Grinds The Bright Brook Into An Azure Mist Of Elemental Subtlety, Like Light; And The Wild Odour Of The Forest Flowers, The Music Of The Living Grass And Air, The Emerald Light Of Leaf-Entangled Beams Round Its Intense Yet Self-Conflicting Speed, Seem Kneaded Into One Aereal Mass Which Drowns The Sense. Within The Orb Itself, Pillowed Upon Its Alabaster Arms, Like To A Child O'Erwearied With Sweet Toil, On Its Own Folded Wings, And Wavy Hair, The Spirit Of The Earth Is Laid Asleep, And You Can See Its Little Lips Are Moving, Amid The Changing Light Of Their Own Smiles, Like One Who Talks Of What He Loves In Dream. Note: _242 White And Green B; White, Green 1820. Ione: 'Tis Only Mocking The Orb'S Harmony. Panthea: And From A Star Upon Its Forehead, Shoot, Like Swords Of Azure Fire, Or Golden Spears With Tyrant-Quelling Myrtle Overtwined, Embleming Heaven And Earth United Now, Vast Beams Like Spokes Of Some Invisible Wheel Which Whirl As The Orb Whirls, Swifter Than Thought, Filling The Abyss With Sun-Like Lightenings, And Perpendicular Now, And Now Transverse, Pierce The Dark Soil, And As They Pierce And Pass, Make Bare The Secrets Of The Earth'S Deep Heart; Infinite Mine Of Adamant And Gold, Valueless Stones, And Unimagined Gems, And Caverns On Crystalline Columns Poised With Vegetable Silver Overspread; Wells Of Unfathomed Fire, And Water Springs Whence The Great Sea, Even As A Child Is Fed, Whose Vapours Clothe Earth'S Monarch Mountain-Tops With Kingly, Ermine Snow. The Beams Flash On And Make Appear The Melancholy Ruins Of Cancelled Cycles; Anchors, Beaks Of Ships; Planks Turned To Marble; Quivers, Helms, And Spears, And Gorgon-Headed Targes, And The Wheels Of Scythed Chariots, And The Emblazonry Of Trophies, Standards, And Armorial Beasts, Round Which Death Laughed, Sepulchred Emblems Of Dead Destruction, Ruin Within Ruin! The Wrecks Beside Of Many A City Vast, Whose Population Which The Earth Grew Over Was Mortal, But Not Human; See, They Lie, Their Monstrous Works, And Uncouth Skeletons, Their Statues, Homes And Fanes; Prodigious Shapes Huddled In Gray Annihilation, Split, Jammed In The Hard, Black Deep; And Over These, The Anatomies Of Unknown Winged Things, And Fishes Which Were Isles Of Living Scale, And Serpents, Bony Chains, Twisted Around The Iron Crags, Or Within Heaps Of Dust To Which The Tortuous Strength Of Their Last Pangs Had Crushed The Iron Crags; And Over These The Jagged Alligator, And The Might Of Earth-Convulsing Behemoth, Which Once Were Monarch Beasts, And On The Slimy Shores, And Weed-Overgrown Continents Of Earth, Increased And Multiplied Like Summer Worms On An Abandoned Corpse, Till The Blue Globe Wrapped Deluge Round It Like A Cloak, And They Yelled, Gasped, And Were Abolished; Or Some God Whose Throne Was In A Comet, Passed, And Cried, 'Be Not!' And Like My Words They Were No More. Notes: _274 Spokes B, Edition 1839; Spoke 1820. _276 Lightenings B; Lightnings 1820. _280 Mines B; Mine 1820. _282 Poised B; Poized Edition 1839; Poured 1820. The Earth: The Joy, The Triumph, The Delight, The Madness! The Boundless, Overflowing, Bursting Gladness, The Vaporous Exultation Not To Be Confined! Ha! Ha! The Animation Of Delight Which Wraps Me, Like An Atmosphere Of Light, And Bears Me As A Cloud Is Borne By Its Own Wind. The Moon: Brother Mine, Calm Wanderer, Happy Globe Of Land And Air, Some Spirit Is Darted Like A Beam From Thee, Which Penetrates My Frozen Frame, And Passes With The Warmth Of Flame, With Love, And Odour, And Deep Melody Through Me, Through Me! The Earth: Ha! Ha! The Caverns Of My Hollow Mountains, My Cloven Fire-Crags, Sound-Exulting Fountains Laugh With A Vast And Inextinguishable Laughter. The Oceans, And The Deserts, And The Abysses, And The Deep Air'S Unmeasured Wildernesses, Answer From All Their Clouds And Billows, Echoing After. They Cry Aloud As I Do. Sceptred Curse, Who All Our Green And Azure Universe Threatenedst To Muffle Round With Black Destruction, Sending A Solid Cloud To Rain Hot Thunderstones, And Splinter And Knead Down My Children'S Bones, All I Bring Forth, To One Void Mass Battering And Blending, - Until Each Crag-Like Tower, And Storied Column, Palace, And Obelisk, And Temple Solemn, My Imperial Mountains Crowned With Cloud, And Snow, And Fire, My Sea-Like Forests, Every Blade And Blossom Which Finds A Grave Or Cradle In My Bosom, Were Stamped By Thy Strong Hate Into A Lifeless Mire: How Art Thou Sunk, Withdrawn, Covered, Drunk Up By Thirsty Nothing, As The Brackish Cup Drained By A Desert-Troop, A Little Drop For All; And From Beneath, Around, Within, Above, Filling Thy Void Annihilation, Love Bursts In Like Light On Caves Cloven By The Thunder-Ball. Notes: _335-_336 The Abysses, And 1820, 1839; The Abysses Of B. _355 The Omitted 1820. The Moon: The Snow Upon My Lifeless Mountains Is Loosened Into Living Fountains, My Solid Oceans Flow, And Sing And Shine: A Spirit From My Heart Bursts Forth, It Clothes With Unexpected Birth My Cold Bare Bosom: Oh! It Must Be Thine On Mine, On Mine! Gazing On Thee I Feel, I Know Green Stalks Burst Forth, And Bright Flowers Grow, And Living Shapes Upon My Bosom Move: Music Is In The Sea And Air, Winged Clouds Soar Here And There, Dark With The Rain New Buds Are Dreaming Of: 'Tis Love, All Love! The Earth: It Interpenetrates My Granite Mass, Through Tangled Roots And Trodden Clay Doth Pass Into The Utmost Leaves And Delicatest Flowers; Upon The Winds, Among The Clouds 'Tis Spread, It Wakes A Life In The Forgotten Dead, They Breathe A Spirit Up From Their Obscurest Bowers. And Like A Storm Bursting Its Cloudy Prison With Thunder, And With Whirlwind, Has Arisen Out Of The Lampless Caves Of Unimagined Being: With Earthquake Shock And Swiftness Making Shiver Thought'S Stagnant Chaos, Unremoved For Ever, Till Hate, And Fear, And Pain, Light-Vanquished Shadows, Fleeing, Leave Man, Who Was A Many-Sided Mirror, Which Could Distort To Many A Shape Of Error, This True Fair World Of Things, A Sea Reflecting Love; Which Over All His Kind, As The Sun'S Heaven Gliding O'Er Ocean, Smooth, Serene, And Even, Darting From Starry Depths Radiance And Life, Doth Move: Leave Man, Even As A Leprous Child Is Left, Who Follows A Sick Beast To Some Warm Cleft Of Rocks, Through Which The Might Of Healing Springs Is Poured; Then When It Wanders Home With Rosy Smile, Unconscious, And Its Mother Fears Awhile It Is A Spirit, Then, Weeps On Her Child Restored. Man, Oh, Not Men! A Chain Of Linked Thought, Of Love And Might To Be Divided Not, Compelling The Elements With Adamantine Stress; As The Sun Rules, Even With A Tyrant'S Gaze, The Unquiet Republic Of The Maze Of Planets, Struggling Fierce Towards Heaven'S Free Wilderness. Man, One Harmonious Soul Of Many A Soul, Whose Nature Is Its Own Divine Control, Where All Things Flow To All, As Rivers To The Sea; Familiar Acts Are Beautiful Through Love; Labour, And Pain, And Grief, In Life'S Green Grove Sport Like Tame Beasts, None Knew How Gentle They Could Be! His Will, With All Mean Passions, Bad Delights, And Selfish Cares, Its Trembling Satellites, A Spirit Ill To Guide, But Mighty To Obey, Is As A Tempest-Winged Ship, Whose Helm Love Rules, Through Waves Which Dare Not Overwhelm, Forcing Life'S Wildest Shores To Own Its Sovereign Sway. All Things Confess His Strength. Through The Cold Mass Of Marble And Of Colour His Dreams Pass; Bright Threads Whence Mothers Weave The Robes Their Children Wear; Language Is A Perpetual Orphic Song, Which Rules With Daedal Harmony A Throng Of Thoughts And Forms, Which Else Senseless And Shapeless Were. The Lightning Is His Slave; Heaven'S Utmost Deep Gives Up Her Stars, And Like A Flock Of Sheep They Pass Before His Eye, Are Numbered, And Roll On! The Tempest Is His Steed, He Strides The Air; And The Abyss Shouts From Her Depth Laid Bare, Heaven, Hast Thou Secrets? Man Unveils Me; I Have None. Note: _387 Life B; Light 1820. The Moon: The Shadow Of White Death Has Passed From My Path In Heaven At Last, A Clinging Shroud Of Solid Frost And Sleep; And Through My Newly-Woven Bowers, Wander Happy Paramours, Less Mighty, But As Mild As Those Who Keep Thy Vales More Deep. The Earth: As The Dissolving Warmth Of Dawn May Fold A Half Unfrozen Dew-Globe, Green, And Gold, And Crystalline, Till It Becomes A Winged Mist, And Wanders Up The Vault Of The Blue Day, Outlives The Noon, And On The Sun'S Last Ray Hangs O'Er The Sea, A Fleece Of Fire And Amethyst. Note: _432 Unfrozen B, Edition 1839; Infrozen 1820. The Moon: Thou Art Folded, Thou Art Lying In The Light Which Is Undying Of Thine Own Joy, And Heaven'S Smile Divine; All Suns And Constellations Shower On Thee A Light, A Life, A Power Which Doth Array Thy Sphere; Thou Pourest Thine On Mine, On Mine! The Earth: I Spin Beneath My Pyramid Of Night, Which Points Into The Heavens Dreaming Delight, Murmuring Victorious Joy In My Enchanted Sleep; As A Youth Lulled In Love-Dreams Faintly Sighing, Under The Shadow Of His Beauty Lying, Which Round His Rest A Watch Of Light And Warmth Doth Keep. The Moon: As In The Soft And Sweet Eclipse, When Soul Meets Soul On Lovers' Lips, High Hearts Are Calm, And Brightest Eyes Are Dull; So When Thy Shadow Falls On Me, Then Am I Mute And Still, By Thee Covered; Of Thy Love, Orb Most Beautiful, Full, Oh, Too Full! Thou Art Speeding Round The Sun Brightest World Of Many A One; Green And Azure Sphere Which Shinest With A Light Which Is Divinest Among All The Lamps Of Heaven To Whom Life And Light Is Given; I, Thy Crystal Paramour Borne Beside Thee By A Power Like The Polar Paradise, Magnet-Like Of Lovers' Eyes; I, A Most Enamoured Maiden Whose Weak Brain Is Overladen With The Pleasure Of Her Love, Maniac-Like Around Thee Move Gazing, An Insatiate Bride, On Thy Form From Every Side Like A Maenad, Round The Cup Which Agave Lifted Up In The Weird Cadmaean Forest. Brother, Wheresoe'Er Thou Soarest I Must Hurry, Whirl And Follow Through The Heavens Wide And Hollow, Sheltered By The Warm Embrace Of Thy Soul From Hungry Space, Drinking From Thy Sense And Sight Beauty, Majesty, And Might, As A Lover Or A Chameleon Grows Like What It Looks Upon, As A Violet'S Gentle Eye Gazes On The Azure Sky Until Its Hue Grows Like What It Beholds, As A Gray And Watery Mist Glows Like Solid Amethyst Athwart The Western Mountain It Enfolds, When The Sunset Sleeps Upon Its Snow - The Earth: And The Weak Day Weeps That It Should Be So. Oh, Gentle Moon, The Voice Of Thy Delight Falls On Me Like Thy Clear And Tender Light Soothing The Seaman, Borne The Summer Night, Through Isles For Ever Calm; Oh, Gentle Moon, Thy Crystal Accents Pierce The Caverns Of My Pride'S Deep Universe, Charming The Tiger Joy, Whose Tramplings Fierce Made Wounds Which Need Thy Balm. Panthea: I Rise As From A Bath Of Sparkling Water, A Bath Of Azure Light, Among Dark Rocks, Out Of The Stream Of Sound. Ione: Ah Me! Sweet Sister, The Stream Of Sound Has Ebbed Away From Us, And You Pretend To Rise Out Of Its Wave, Because Your Words Fall Like The Clear, Soft Dew Shaken From A Bathing Wood-Nymph'S Limbs And Hair. Panthea: Peace! Peace! A Mighty Power, Which Is As Darkness, Is Rising Out Of Earth, And From The Sky Is Showered Like Night, And From Within The Air Bursts, Like Eclipse Which Had Been Gathered Up Into The Pores Of Sunlight: The Bright Visions, Wherein The Singing Spirits Rode And Shone, Gleam Like Pale Meteors Through A Watery Night. Ione: There Is A Sense Of Words Upon Mine Ear. Panthea: An Universal Sound Like Words: Oh, List! Demogorgon: Thou, Earth, Calm Empire Of A Happy Soul, Sphere Of Divinest Shapes And Harmonies, Beautiful Orb! Gathering As Thou Dost Roll The Love Which Paves Thy Path Along The Skies: The Earth: I Hear: I Am As A Drop Of Dew That Dies. Demogorgon: Thou, Moon, Which Gazest On The Nightly Earth With Wonder, As It Gazes Upon Thee; Whilst Each To Men, And Beasts, And The Swift Birth Of Birds, Is Beauty, Love, Calm, Harmony: The Moon: I Hear: I Am A Leaf Shaken By Thee! Demogorgon: Ye Kings Of Suns And Stars, Daemons And Gods, Ethereal Dominations, Who Possess Elysian, Windless, Fortunate Abodes Beyond Heaven'S Constellated Wilderness: A Voice From Above: Our Great Republic Hears: We Are Blest, And Bless. Demogorgon: Ye Happy Dead, Whom Beams Of Brightest Verse Are Clouds To Hide, Not Colours To Portray, Whether Your Nature Is That Universe Which Once Ye Saw And Suffered - A Voice: From Beneath: Or As They Whom We Have Left, We Change And Pass Away. Demogorgon: Ye Elemental Genii, Who Have Homes From Man'S High Mind Even To The Central Stone Of Sullen Lead; From Heaven'S Star-Fretted Domes To The Dull Weed Some Sea-Worm Battens On: A Confused Voice: We Hear: Thy Words Waken Oblivion. Demogorgon: Spirits, Whose Homes Are Flesh; Ye Beasts And Birds, Ye Worms And Fish; Ye Living Leaves And Buds; Lightning And Wind; And Ye Untameable Herds, Meteors And Mists, Which Throng Air'S Solitudes: - Note: _547 Throng 1820, 1839; Cancelled For Feed B. A Voice: Thy Voice To Us Is Wind Among Still Woods. Demogorgon: Man, Who Wert Once A Despot And A Slave; A Dupe And A Deceiver; A Decay; A Traveller From The Cradle To The Grave Through The Dim Night Of This Immortal Day: All: Speak: Thy Strong Words May Never Pass Away. Demogorgon: This Is The Day, Which Down The Void Abysm At The Earth-Born'S Spell Yawns For Heaven'S Despotism, And Conquest Is Dragged Captive Through The Deep: Love, From Its Awful Throne Of Patient Power In The Wise Heart, From The Last Giddy Hour Of Dread Endurance, From The Slippery, Steep, And Narrow Verge Of Crag-Like Agony, Springs And Folds Over The World Its Healing Wings. Gentleness, Virtue, Wisdom, And Endurance, These Are The Seals Of That Most Firm Assurance Which Bars The Pit Over Destruction'S Strength; And If, With Infirm Hand, Eternity, Mother Of Many Acts And Hours, Should Free The Serpent That Would Clasp Her With His Length; These Are The Spells By Which To Reassume An Empire O'Er The Disentangled Doom. To Suffer Woes Which Hope Thinks Infinite; To Forgive Wrongs Darker Than Death Or Night; To Defy Power, Which Seems Omnipotent; To Love, And Bear; To Hope Till Hope Creates From Its Own Wreck The Thing It Contemplates; Neither To Change, Nor Falter, Nor Repent; This, Like Thy Glory, Titan, Is To Be Good, Great And Joyous, Beautiful And Free; This Is Alone Life, Joy, Empire, And Victory! Notes: _559 Dread B, Edition 1839; Dead 1820. _575 Falter B, Edition 1839; Flatter 1820. Cancelled Fragments Of "Prometheus Unbound". [First Printed By Mr. C.D. Locock, "Examination Of The Shelley Manuscripts At The Bodleian Library", 1903, Pages 33-7.] (Following 1._37.) When Thou Descendst Each Night With Open Eyes In Torture, For A Tyrant Seldom Sleeps, Thou Never; ... ... (Following 1._195.) Which Thou Henceforth Art Doomed To Interweave ... (Following The First Two Words Of 1._342.) [Of Hell:] I Placed It In His Choice To Be The Crown, Or Trampled Refuse Of The World With But One Law Itself A Glorious Boon - I Gave - ... (Following 1._707.) Second Spirit: I Leaped On The Wings Of The Earth-Star Damp As It Rose On The Steam Of A Slaughtered Camp - The Sleeping Newt Heard Not Our Tramp As Swift As The Wings Of Fire May Pass - We Threaded The Points Of Long Thick Grass Which Hide The Green Pools Of The Morass But Shook A Water-Serpent'S Couch In A Cleft Skull, Of Many Such The Widest; At The Meteor'S Touch The Snake Did Seem To See In Dream Thrones And Dungeons Overthrown Visions How Unlike His Own... 'Twas The Hope The Prophecy Which Begins And Ends In Thee ... (Following 2.1._110.) Lift Up Thine Eyes Panthea - They Pierce They Burn Panthea: Alas! I Am Consumed - I Melt Away The Fire Is In My Heart - Asia: Thine Eyes Burn Burn! - Hide Them Within Thine Hair - Panthea: O Quench Thy Lips I Sink I Perish Asia: Shelter Me Now - They Burn It Is His Spirit In Their Orbs...My Life Is Ebbing Fast - I Cannot Speak - Panthea: Rest, Rest! Sleep Death Annihilation Pain! Aught Else ... (Following 2.4._27.) Or Looks Which Tell That While The Lips Are Calm And The Eyes Cold, The Spirit Weeps Within Tears Like The Sanguine Sweat Of Agony; ... Uncancelled Passage. (Following 2.5._71.) Asia: You Said That Spirits Spoke, But It Was Thee Sweet Sister, For Even Now Thy Curved Lips Tremble As If The Sound Were Dying There Not Dead Panthea: Alas It Was Prometheus Spoke Within Me, And I Know It Must Be So I Mixed My Own Weak Nature With His Love ...And My Thoughts Are Like The Many Forests Of A Vale Through Which The Might Of Whirlwind And Of Rain Had Passed - They Rest Rest Through The Evening Light As Mine Do Now In Thy Beloved Smile. Cancelled Stage Directions. (Following 1._221.) [The Sound Beneath As Of Earthquake And The Driving Of Whirlwinds - The Ravine Is Split, And The Phantasm Of Jupiter Rises, Surrounded By Heavy Clouds Which Dart Forth Lightning.] (Following 1._520.) [Enter Rushing By Groups Of Horrible Forms; They Speak As They Pass In Chorus.] (Following 1._552.) [A Shadow Passes Over The Scene, And A Piercing Shriek Is Heard.]