PROMETHEUS 
 
HIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
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 ! UNITED STATES OF AMERICA ' 
 
PROMETHEUS 
 
 A POEM 
 
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 BY 
 
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 S. p. PUTNAM 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
 182 FIFTH AVENUE 
 1877 
 
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 Copyright by 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS. 
 
 1877. 
 
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 PROMETHEUS 
 
 VENUS 
 
 ASIA 
 
 APOLLO 
 THE THEFT 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 JOVE ...... 9 
 
 19 
 
 THE PROPHECY 
 THE VISION 
 
 31 
 
 45 
 
 MAN . . . , . .6^ 
 
 79 
 95 
 
 THE PUNISHMENT . . . . m 
 
 123 
 135 
 
ARG UMENT, 
 
 In the Evolution of Life Jove represents the beginnifig of 
 the power of Free Will, but Free Will seeking solely self- 
 aggrandizement. Prometheus sy7?ibolizes Moral Insight ; 
 Venus y Asia; Apollo, Love, Reverence, I maginaticji without 
 Moral Insight. Man is the power of Free Will, con- 
 secrated in " the long result of Time " to the good of all. 
 
JOVE 
 
PROMETHEUS 
 
 BOOK FIRST. 
 
 JOVE. 
 
 FRESH born and radiant in the joyous halls 
 Of wide Olympus, held their festivals 
 The mighty gods, triumphant o'er the old, 
 With thrones and purples and long pomps of gold ; 
 Serenely in their midst Jove sat elate, 
 His brow full blazing with the new estate ; 
 What surging thoughts were in his spirit bright 
 As he looked forth o'er realms that spread in light 
 The fair dominions of his recent power ; v/ 
 
 How long should he possess their perfect flower ? 
 Must he too vanish like the former gods ? 
 Was he but just a wave on boundless floods, 
 One moment eminent and then flung back 
 To the dark depths of the eternal rack ? 
 The thought was bitter, for to rule was sweet ; 
 
lO PROMETHEUS. 
 
 Sweetest to rule forever and complete ; 
 
 And he would do so if by thunders vast 
 
 And will prodigious his bright throne could last. 
 
 He rose, the gods attended to his voice ; 
 
 Millions of spirits ready to rejoice 
 
 At his command were waiting to obey 
 
 His slightest word to farthest night away ; 
 
 To roll a planet or to plant a seed, 
 
 Or rustle in the wind, or cloudlike speed 
 
 And pour the storm upon the mountain's crest, 
 
 Or the warm shower upon the valley's breast, 
 
 Or bend the rainbow or to fling the beam 
 
 Dancing along the bubbles of the stream. 
 
 Or gather in huge armaments and shake 
 
 The earth's foundations till all mortals quake : — 
 
 With proud pre-eminence he looked along 
 
 The glittering, billowing, and imperious throng ; 
 
 The masters of the world, the heavens and earth, 
 
 By the glad potency of latest birth ; — 
 
 He filled a goblet sparkling to the brim 
 
 And waved it like a meteor ; o'er its rim 
 
 The purple splendors flew and seemed like stars 
 
 To mortals gazing thro' their fleshly bars ; 
 
 With mien of monarch who all fate defied 
 
 He poured strange sayings like an ocean's tide. 
 
 " Immortals ! we are much by force divine ; 
 We've won these kingdoms by some vast design 
 Outside of what we are in our own soul ; 
 
yovE. II 
 
 The Universal Spirit did control 
 
 The teeming prodigies that made us best ; 
 
 Must the same breath that girded us divest ? 
 
 Are we the slaves of some deep, subtle law 
 
 That must our very godlihood o'erawe ? 
 
 Are we to yield this gladness and this power 
 
 To some diviner souls in future hour ? 
 
 Or have we reached a point where will can play 
 
 And make eternal our uncertain sway ? 
 
 Have we not something personal and free 
 
 That can command what is shall ever be ? 
 
 Can we not fix in our own way the course 
 
 Of dubious nature and our thought enforce, 
 
 And make her laws the reflex of our will, 
 
 Her endless progress do us service still ? 
 
 Do we not feel within our mounting brain 
 
 Creative faculties that bid remain 
 
 These lucent empires at our lordly feet ? 
 
 I tell ye, happy gods, that we can greet 
 
 All change, all chance, all power, all circling sweep 
 
 Of laAv divine from the profoundest deep. 
 
 With open hearts, without one cloud of fear ; 
 
 For we can make each one our minister ; 
 
 For we have that within which can hold back 
 
 The rudest heavings of the latent rack ; 
 
 We are the first in all the march of time 
 
 Who can shape thought into a will sublime ; 
 
 We are not simply outcomes of the law. 
 
 But to our own desire its force can draw ; 
 
 Who went before were merely flashing blooms 
 
12 
 
 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 Of passive spirit on the eternal glooms ; 
 They were but children of the flowing light 
 With no predominance of inward might ; 
 They came and went like motes upon the air, 
 Or waves upon the sea, or cloudlands fair 
 That flash one dazzUng moment on the sight 
 Then sink invohtive to endless night ; — 
 We are not such, for in the whirl of life 
 We've reached a point where a new power is rife, 
 Developed by conditions manifold 
 That never yet existed in the old ; 
 We've reached volition, acts determinate, 
 By which we make ourselves a part of fate, 
 And with a constant and expanding stream 
 Of inward effort, are at length supreme. 
 
 "We are immortal then by our own choice. 
 And though our growing selfhood must rejoice 
 In universal and eternal rule ; 
 We must be grasping then and seize the whole ; 
 We must be merciless and hard and cold. 
 And crush all things that other promise hold ; 
 Outside of us nothing must have free play 
 Or any chance to win a better day ; 
 Crush e'en the worm if it display a power 
 Beyond the simplest needs of present hour ; 
 For who can tell what the result might be 
 In the long stretches of eternity, 
 A force accumulates by slight advance 
 Until it burns in sunbright radiance, 
 
JOVE, 13 
 
 And we are swallowed in its swelling tide 
 
 Of victory and pomp and thunders wide ; 
 
 We know not whence our primal motion came, 
 
 From what faint flutters of ethereal flame, 
 
 Through what misshapen mass of rock or sod 
 
 We crept, then leaped into the conquering god ; 
 
 That which an insect's puny wing might stop 
 
 Lodged in the bosom of a water drop 
 
 Becomes a host that Saturn flees before ; 
 
 A million gods whose tramp's like ocean's roar ; 
 
 We must prevent such in the ages hence 
 
 And keep confined what may become immense ; 
 
 Bring to ourselves all excellence we can 
 
 Until our wills become the shaping plan, 
 
 Absorbing all the kindling life of all ; 
 
 And we are freed from fates's eternal thrall, 
 
 And it becomes our slave to curse the rest, 
 
 While we are always happiest and best. 
 
 " Watch then the mystic life at every place, 
 Detect with cruel eye the pregnant space 
 Where there's a single gleam of something higher, 
 And crush relentless the awakening fire. 
 
 " But chiefly man I bid you guard intent ; 
 There's in his soul some deep new element, 
 Whose possibilities outreach our own ; 
 Fate's far successor to our awful throne ; 
 Feeble and vagrant though he seems to-day, 
 Trembling before our thunder's glittering play, 
 
J. PROMETHEUS. 
 
 Crouching before our radiance as we pass, 
 His home the cavern and his food the grass ; 
 There's something in him of divinest light 
 That will one day fling us to endless night 
 If we permit him his full force to know. 
 We must subdue him in his primal glow ; 
 With ignorance and want break down his mind, 
 In glooms and terrors keep his soul confined ; 
 Drive him and work him like a very slave 
 Until he sinks unpregnant to the grave ; 
 Crush every aspiration, hope, desire, 
 Make him companion of the clod, no fire 
 Allow him in his dreary heart or home, 
 Naked and savage let him wildly roam. 
 And see but phantoms in the cold, bleak air 
 That torture him with unbenignant glare, 
 Until he feels the universe a hell 
 And life a burden unendurable ; 
 Who dares to pity him of this bright throng 
 Shall feel the vengeance of these thunders strong 
 All horrors shall be heaped upon his head, 
 All direst tortures that a god can dread ; 
 Secure yourselves and Jove shall be a friend, 
 And waiting spirits with all joys attend ; 
 Leave man to perish, there our fortune lies 
 And all the glory of our destinies ; 
 Give him no portion of our heavenly fire, 
 No knowledge of what's true let him acquire ; 
 No whit of our divine intelligence ; 
 So shall we keep our noble eminence 
 
JOVE. 15 
 
 And be forever gods, forever rule 
 
 In all these kingdoms wide and beautiful. 
 
 ■^o^ 
 
 ''Among ourselves be affable and just, 
 AVith gracious services and generous trust ; 
 In love's sweet harmony considerate dwell, 
 In noble worth strive only to excel ; 
 Let sweetness, light, gird each benignant throne. 
 Flowing and spreading to each other's zone ; 
 Our mingling pomps let in one splendor ray 
 And each in all enjoy consumm^ate sway. 
 
 " Drink then the sparkling wine to that grim force 
 That flung the seeds of our primordial course ; 
 Drink to the spirit that in one glad hour 
 Clothed us with consciousness and royal power ; 
 Drink to our own relentless energy 
 By which we've won these kingdoms of the sky ; 
 Drink to that will by which we mean to keep 
 Our thrones unshattered through the age's sweep ; 
 Drink deep, drink deep to Jove's eternal sway 
 And swear to crush vile man's aspiring clay." 
 
 The cruel, brilliant, glorious god sat down ; 
 
 His placid countenance expressed no frown ; 
 
 It beamed effulgent like the gentle sun 
 
 When in the April air sweet showers are done ; 
 
 But on it lay the shadow of a will 
 
 That for a throne would torture, crush and kill. 
 
1 6 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 The gods drank wildly to his sounding toast, 
 The goblets clashed along the swelling host. 
 The quivering radiance mingled with the flow 
 Of sparkling wine in iridescent show ; 
 On myriad crowned brows sat thought elate, 
 Conscious of power to change the march of fate ; 
 Louder and louder rang the songs of mirth, 
 And their sweet music flooded distant earth ; 
 But not with promise in their mellow strain, 
 But agony and toil and bitter pain. 
 
PROMETHEUS 
 
PROMETHEUS. 
 
 BOOK SECOND. 
 
 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 PROMETHEUS flung the sparkling wine away, 
 He would not drink to Jove's eternal sway ; 
 Deep thoughted god, strongest of heart and brain ; 
 He saw that brutal will must yet prove vain ; 
 For there were forces infinitely grand 
 That Jove's enormous arm could not command 
 And they would triumph in o'erarching light 
 E'en from the bosom of the darkest night ; 
 But still he knew not when or how or where 
 Would come the perfect good and perfect fair ; 
 Dim, vague, and shadowy it gleamed before ; 
 He knew it would be, but he knew scarce more ; — 
 Not for a lasting throne did he aspire 
 But simply to help others his desire ; 
 For he beheld Love's lovliness divine. 
 
20 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 And poured his worship at its lofty shrine ; 
 The fatherhood and motherhood he saw, 
 Sweet and prevailing in the rudest law. 
 
 Alone he walked in meditation deep ; 
 
 Companionship with gods he would not keep 
 
 Who only thought of their own happy sway, 
 
 And cared not for the ills of lesser clay ; 
 
 He was indignant at the cruel sham 
 
 Of light and sweetness glittering but to damn ; 
 
 As if one beam of the eternal truth 
 
 Could come except by justice, mercy ruth 
 
 To each, to all, to meanest shape of life ; 
 
 By constant helpfulness throughout the strife ; 
 
 He who will turn despiteful from the worm 
 
 Can never gaze on truth's full perfect form ; 
 
 For the divinest light of all in all 
 
 Cannot irradiate a mental thrall 
 
 Create by limitations of the true 
 
 To what is grandest in the sensual view ; 
 
 In unity of things ; the high with low ; 
 
 Does one at least perceive the central glow; 
 
 And not until the same sweet glories shine 
 
 In dust as star-flame does the heart divine 
 
 Or brain contemplate through the circling whole 
 
 The most magnificent and beautiful. 
 
 These thoughts were vivid in Prometheus' soul 
 Roused and embittered by man's piteous dole; 
 With piercing vision through impending fears 
 
PROME THE US. 2 1 
 
 He saw what might be in the endless years ; 
 But darkening clouds enveloped far the way, 
 And faint and casual shone the perfect ray. 
 What should he do ? Obey the strongest now, 
 Before the present brilliance meekly bow, 
 Enjoy the tempting fruit of sweet to-day 
 And let the fates develop as they may ? 
 Why sacrifice his pleasure crown and seat 
 For what must come by others soon or late ? 
 Was not the living moment best of all ? 
 Then seize its blossom let what may befall 
 'T would be all right by some supremest power 
 No matter with what deeds he filled the hour. 
 
 In weakness, strength ; in darkness, light and pain. 
 The storm tossed spirit no resolve could gain. 
 With rapid words he poured his spirit out. 
 Convictions, inspirations, awful doubt. 
 
 " Jove ! thou art mighty, and these thrones are bright 
 
 An endless paradise enchains the sight; 
 
 Millions of glorious spirits, sparkling wine, 
 
 Ambrosial food, make every day divine; 
 
 There's keen enjoyment to the very full; 
 
 Action supreme for body, mind and soul; 
 
 Our passions can flame out in boundless play, 
 
 We can be idle, or imperious sway. 
 
 Drink nectar, sleep, dream, think or sceptres wield, 
 
 Or ride sublime along the azure field 
 
 And see the outspread glory of the world 
 
22 PROMETHEUS, 
 
 Our mighty empire in fair forms unfurled, 
 
 Bright ocean, golden isles, the spacious land 
 
 Where wood, hill, valley in sweet scenes expand; — 
 
 What more can the exultant spirit ask ? 
 
 Why enter on a cold and thankless task 
 
 And leave this warmth and gladness for the gloom 
 
 And awful shadow of some crushing doom ? 
 
 I will not do it, this bright hour is mine, 
 
 I will enjoy it to the very fine; 
 
 I can but sink to utter nothingness. 
 
 No matter what I do or curse or bless; 
 
 And why not join with the imperial Jove 
 
 And strive to conquer the dark fates above ? 
 
 Why be his enemy ? O, he can dart 
 
 The fiercest tortures to the shrinking heart ; 
 
 I know his power, what dreadful agonies 
 
 One must endure who his command defies ; 
 
 Let me be wise and drink the quickening foam 
 
 Of present blisses; let man meet his doom ; 
 
 He is no kin ; he is of lesser clay ; 
 
 Let fate of anything befriend his way 
 
 And help him crush us in its own good time; 
 
 Then all together we sink down to slime ; 
 
 And Jove becomes as pallid as the rest, 
 
 As weak, as woeful spite of lordly crest ; 
 
 I know we cannot triumph by mere will : 
 
 Toil as one may the fates he must fulfil; 
 
 Yet why be opposite to Jove's command ? 
 
 Why draw the thunders from his vengeful hand ? 
 
 Since 1 can full enjoy this eminence 
 
PROMETHEUS. 2^ 
 
 And still can do so to far ages hence. — 
 
 Ah ! me, there's something that I cannot still ; 
 
 Regnant it glitters o'er my changing will ; 
 
 The sweet monitions of eternal Love, , 
 
 The sanctities of Right, they gleam away 
 
 Into a beautiful transcendent ray, 
 
 That makes the glories that I see around, 
 
 Of stately thrones, fair empires, millions crowned ; 
 
 But like a wave upon the tumbling sea ; 
 
 O truth ! O visions of eternity ! 
 
 Lift me and sway me to your reckless height, 
 
 To do for its own sake the blessed right. 
 
 O Justice, Virtue, Goodness Absolute ! 
 
 Make me thy servant to despise the brute 
 
 Coarse will of undiscerning Jove ; 
 
 Thy deep foundations nothing can remove ; 
 
 A million gods are but a mote's blind play 
 
 Against thy potent everlasting sway ; 
 
 O fix my eyes on thy unswerving light 
 
 And steady me along this fearful night, — 
 Alas ! the glow is gone ! I'm weak again ; 
 The piercing splendor just athwart my ken 
 Seems but a dream, a will o'wisp of thought. 
 An ardent wish by heated fancy wrought 
 Into an image of reality ; 
 An inward longing shaped to outward lie ; — 
 Is there an Infinite, an Absolute ? 
 And if there is, I finite, cannot put 
 One drop of its eternal sea of light 
 
24 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 Into the tiny goblet of my sight ; 
 
 Why trouble with a thing I cannot know ? 
 
 Gauge action by the laws the senses show ; 
 
 Study the interests of the time that is 
 
 The space we look at ; what beyond them lies 
 
 May be, or may not be like what we view ; 
 
 A blank unknowable, if false or true : 
 
 One cannot choose in reference to it then ; 
 
 The bounded must all motive power contain. 
 
 The bounded ? and Jove fills that to the brim ; 
 What is there that his glory does not dim ? 
 His lightnings do o'er sweep my finite sky ; 
 There's no escape but in Infinity. 
 
 And is there such ? O swift and gleaming thought ! 
 
 Canst thou not penetrate the shapeless naught 
 
 Into the Inconceivable find way, 
 
 And happily disclose some ampler ray 
 
 Then that which shines on Jove's imperious front ; 
 
 Something to stir me to the fearful brunt 
 
 Of his o'erwhelming and soul cleaving stroke ? 
 
 Something to help me break his iron yoke ? 
 
 To dare the thunders of his awful throne, 
 
 To meet him with my heart and brain alone. 
 
 And feel that e'en when writhing in the dust. 
 
 Tortured by all the horrors he can thrust 
 
 Upon my trembling soul and shrinking frame 
 
 The mounting terrors of hell's hottest flame 
 
 That I am still triumphant o'er his head ; 
 
FROMETHEUS. 25 
 
 And he, not I, endures the bitterest dread ; 
 
 Is there no Changeless, o'er this changing maze ? 
 
 Yet, if so, O how hard to reach its blaze. 
 
 To see it regnant above time and space, 
 
 Formless and pictureless because its grace 
 
 No brightest thing can flash upon the sense ; 
 
 E'en the most god-like feels his impotence ; 
 
 E'en these bright personalities we are, 
 
 Hedge us from boundless to particular ; 
 
 And e'en the very actions that we do 
 
 Contract the purely intellectual view ; 
 
 And we must sacrifice somewhat withal 
 
 Of infinite to individual ; 
 
 The widest vision cannot grasp the whole ; 
 
 And is there then a universal Soul ? 
 
 Is Soul the essence ? or but just a flash 
 
 Of joy and wonder in the boundless crash ? 
 
 And that which seems so beautifully bright, 
 
 A very sun-burst of eternal Right, 
 
 Sweetly commanding to heroic deed. 
 
 Careless of what the mightiest has decreed, 
 
 May be but just a quiver of the brain ; 
 
 Then why pursue it since it leads to pain. 
 
 And leads to nothing else for aught I know ? 
 
 What promise have I that this act will flow 
 
 Into a single benefit for man ? 
 
 It may condemn him to more cruel ban. 
 
 I scorn thee Jove ; and if I do obey 
 
 'T will be with grudging service day by day ; 
 
26 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 With no true joy can I applaud thy course ; 
 
 A soulless echo I to thy huge force ; 
 
 Thought must contract its endless happy play ; 
 
 That which is best within me must decay ; 
 
 The visions majesties the sweet delights 
 
 That haunt the sunny noons and starry nights, 
 
 Will vanish to a dull unhappy show ; 
 
 No mystic pomps will march along their glow; 
 
 Aurora's dawnings will seem dim and cold; 
 
 The moon's pale lustre no enchantments hold; 
 
 The shinings seas will be a shining void; 
 
 The beautiful of all will be destroyed; 
 
 The world will be a grimly glittering place, 
 
 An inward horror though an outw^ard grace; — 
 
 Can I endure all this ? the death of mind, 
 
 The death of hope, to be forever blind. 
 
 Forever dull, slow, passsionless, contract, 
 
 To shallow weak consistency of act ? 
 
 Never to sweep the infinite expanse ? 
 
 Never from glowing height to height advance 
 
 And see strange luring splendors far away ? 
 
 With exultation e'en through darkness stray 
 
 Trembling with awful fear and awful joy 
 
 Not knowing if the true or false decoy. 
 
 Yet feeling that the end of all must be 
 
 The fairest visions of eternity ? 
 
 Must I give up all this immense of thought 
 
 And cramp my soul by Jove's stale wisdom taught 
 
 To narrow and traditionary state 
 
 Till tossed to nothingness by scornful fate ? 
 
PROMETHEUS. 
 
 I will not do't; thought's endless scope sublime 
 
 Shall be my joy through what I have of time;, 
 
 Jove hath no terror so supremely dread, 
 
 As outward glory with the spirit dead. 
 
 But why express myself if I dissent ? 
 
 Why make myself in action eminent ? 
 
 Why put in outward form my inward creed ? 
 
 There is no stern necessity for deed ; 
 
 Why not be reticent, be owl-like wise ? 
 
 Brood deeply, but avoid the sacrifice ? 
 
 Unfold my thought in glowing solitude 
 
 And passive contemplation of the good ? 
 
 Look down on all these dignities with scorn. 
 
 Yet never meet them in the brunt forlorn ; 
 
 Keep to myself the burning wrath I feel 
 
 And silently to fate and truth appeal. 
 
 Ah ! can this be ? Is thought a fruitless thing ? 
 
 A rose to perfume, a mere song to sing ? 
 
 Something to charm the pleasant life away 
 
 With wanton brilliance and seductive play ? 
 
 To find no vent in actions' splendid burst, 
 
 Seeking the highest yet defying worst ? 
 
 Such dainty thought would end in bitterest gall ; 
 
 I must do nothing or I must do all ; 
 
 My thought must act, or it will sting to death ; . 
 
 It must go forth and be a living breath ; 
 
 Nerve the strong arm and set the brain on fire 
 
 And in the mighty deed full worth acquire. 
 
 27 
 
28 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 I dread to see the everlasting Right, 
 I dread to see the calm unchanging Light, 
 I dread to know what Truth and Duty ask, 
 They may compel me to a hopeless task." 
 
VENUS 
 
PROMETHEUS 
 
 BOOK THIRD. 
 
 VENUS. 
 
 THE Halls of Venus spread before him now 
 And his tired spirit sought their restful glow ; 
 Beautiful halls ! by Love's own genius planned, 
 Grandeur and vastness lost in lustres bland ; 
 Naught to oppress or fiercely agitate ; 
 No ceremonies dull nor gorgeous state ; 
 But gentle fervors of far bending skies, 
 Blue stretches hung with spangled tapestries, 
 Sweet meadows decked with flowers, sweet winding brooks, 
 Sweet groves with radiant arches haunting looks. 
 Sweet hills forever crowned with sunny light, 
 Sweet grottoes flowing into lucent night, 
 Long sweeps of valleys' many colored gleam 
 Opening to some new flash of wood or stream 
 Or flowery bank or leafy nook or glade 
 Or intervale, as if by hand displayed 
 
32- PROMETHEUS. 
 
 Of magic charmer hastening on before 
 
 Droping fresh landscapes from a boundless store ;— 
 
 While walls sublime that midst embowering trees 
 
 Rose like a cloud with tender radiances ; 
 
 Soft pomps of tower and mineret and dome 
 
 Suggesting ever Love's resplendent home. 
 
 Prometheus loitered hence to dissipate 
 
 If but a moment the dark rushing weight 
 
 Of awful and interminable thought ; 
 
 Like sparkling wine the gay scenes to him brought 
 
 A sense divine of happy indolence, 
 
 All struggle ceasing in a bliss intense ; 
 
 And bright imagination took the way 
 
 And led him onward with enkindling ray, 
 
 And the strange grief and trouble of his mind 
 
 Sank in a palpitating rapture blind ; 
 
 Beside a fountains murmuring glow he strayed, 
 
 That lullabies the sweetest, kindest, played ; 
 
 And all his soul was steeped in wondrous rest ; 
 
 The dear content that cannot be expressed ; 
 
 And then he felt a presence in the air, 
 
 A tender burning glory fairest fair ! 
 
 And Venus stood before him like a dream, 
 
 Like all that flowers can give in one sweet gleam 
 
 Or waves in one divinest aspect roll 
 
 Or fancy picture to the spell-bound soul ; 
 
 Her smile was freighted with a thousand joys 
 
 And rippled into melodies of voice. 
 
 " Prometheus welcome ! and disperse thy gloom ; 
 
VENUS. 33 
 
 Let thought be banished and let love illume ; 
 
 Bathe thy strong soul in raptures of the sense ; 
 
 Accept thy glory, 'tis no matter whence 
 
 It comes or whither it may fleet at last ; 
 
 Love takes what is, what will be or is past 
 
 It scorns in its immeasureable bliss 
 
 And drowns eternity in one wild kiss ; 
 
 Toil not with problems that you cannot solve, 
 
 Grope not in darkness where no suns revolve, 
 
 Or but in grim and desolate array 
 
 With no sweet promise of delightful day ; 
 
 Grasp what fate rolls thee with an eager hand, 
 
 Nor for a better good uncertain stand ; 
 
 If we are only motes, let's drink the light 
 
 And drink it deeply till we fall in night ; 
 
 What can we do with the eternal force 
 
 But dance and sing, until the thunders hoarse 
 
 Of our fixed doom we cannot stay one jot 
 
 Hurl us like faded flowers into the naught ? 
 
 Enjoy the sweetness that no other state 
 
 Can make more gladsome, for 'tis Love's estate 
 
 To be in all conditions perfect life ; 
 
 The soul that has it is released from strife ; 
 
 It asks no more from all that fate can give ; 
 
 'Tis happiness to die as well as live." 
 
 "Fair Goddess true," Prometheus then replied, 
 " Love's excellence is more than all beside 
 If we can have it and be just to all ; 
 But how can purest love the soul enthrall 
 
34 
 
 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 If we neglect, despise or hate the least ? 
 
 Mere passion is the motion of the beast ; 
 
 But in the mind of gods it must be more, 
 
 It must be virtue or it drags one lower, 
 
 An infinite corruption and fierce curse, — 
 
 Love is the crowning of the Universe ; 
 
 Most beautiful of all, thou Goddess sweet ! 
 
 And in thy arms is happiness complete ! 
 
 Not all the grandeur of Jove's high estate 
 
 Can tempt me when thy love I contemplate. 
 
 Love ! Love ! O how I yearn for its sweet spell, 
 
 Forever in its golden house to dwell ; 
 
 To look forever into happy eyes, 
 
 And see forever a fresh paradise ; 
 
 To wander in the gleaming paths away, 
 
 And clasp the fairest mid the roses gay ; 
 
 But can I love while man is desolate ? 
 
 Can I enjoy this hollow heartless state 
 
 Built on a misery that day by day 
 
 Becomes more crushing that our thrones may stay ? 
 
 O Venus is thy love an outward show 
 
 That has no feeling for another's woe ? 
 
 O is thy passion but a feverish lust 
 
 That for its pleasure tramples in the dust ? 
 
 Hast thou no thought for the oppressed, the weak ? 
 
 For thine own fortune dost thou solely seek ? 
 
 Is this the love that makes us vanquish fate ? 
 
 O no it sinks one with a horrid weight ; 
 
 Thy stately palace is a vermin's haunt, 
 
 If there's no hope or pity there for want." 
 
VENUS. 
 
 The beauteous goddess passionately spoke ; 
 " Do I not pity man ? Could I revoke 
 The sentence passed against him by high Jove 
 He should rejoice in my divinest love ; 
 
 I would scatter flowers upon his way, 
 
 1 would enchant him with my brightest ray, 
 I'd fill his spirit with the sweetest mirth, 
 I'd make resplendent the fair fields of earth, 
 
 I'd build him happy homes midst gleaming light, 
 Beautiful children should make glad his sight, 
 And all the sunny years should opening flow 
 To fruitful blisses that no cloud should know. 
 O what is love but universal joy ; 
 To give, to give, to all without alloy ; 
 To least, to greatest sweeps its kindly beam. 
 It will not be confined to petty stream ; 
 O I would eagerly o'er earth display 
 My richest gifts if one would only slay 
 Tremendous Jove, repeal his stern decree, 
 And give my glowing heart full liberty." 
 
 ^' O hasten with me then ; " Prometheus cried 
 
 " Let Jove with all his thunders be defied ; 
 
 O take the golden fire to dreary earth 
 
 And fling it sparkling o'er the barren hearth ; 
 
 O let the sweet flames crackle into song 
 
 And dance in dull eyes that have waited long ; 
 
 O let us in one mighty sacrifice 
 
 Make possible to man his paradise ; 
 
 35 
 
36 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 O Love ! O Goddess ! pour this life away 
 That it may glow to a more perfect day." 
 
 Her beauteous eyes were jewelled with sweet tears ; 
 
 She shuddered, pale with deep and awful fears ; 
 
 " I cannot ; think of what Jove's arm will do ; 
 
 This glorious act we terribly should rue ; 
 
 For such dire punishments would thunder strike, 
 
 That lowest hell would seem these blisses like, 
 
 And all our shrinking immortality 
 
 Would be a curse, and thought and soul and sense 
 
 Be tortured weighted by omnipotence ; 
 
 Jove is too strong, too strong for my poor will ; 
 
 For he can heap on woes and yet not kill ; 
 
 Oh ! I do hate his pompous majesty, 
 
 His empire based on other's agony ; 
 
 But my weak hands and heart cannot contend 
 
 I have no vision of a happy end 
 
 For Jove may be immortal in his pride, 
 
 And man be harder pushed though we defied. 
 
 O sweet Prometheus ! stay and take your fill 
 
 Of what Jove still permits, forgetting ill." 
 
 The glow had faded from Prometheus brow 
 
 With faltering words he spoke his ardor now 
 
 " Love fails me then, I cannot go alone 
 
 Into the dark unfathomable unknown 
 
 And meet the horrid shapes that throng me there ; 
 
 O Venus ! must we sink in cold despair. 
 
 And crush these golden hopes that fill the heart ? 
 
VENUS. 
 
 Can we not act our better nobler part ? 
 Must we be slaves to an enormous will ? 
 Still must the strong his brutal plan fulfil ? 
 Why have these wishes so supreme and sweet 
 Yet have no power for fruitful action meet ? 
 And they must die and wither in the soul, 
 And fling their desolation o'er the whole." 
 O how her beauty grew in wondrous light 
 As she low answered in her sorrow s plight ; 
 And like a tremulous song her moanings rolled 
 From her fair bosom by sad thoughts controlled. 
 
 " I do believe things never will be right ; 
 
 There is somehow an everlasting blight ; 
 
 The good like all sinks to the final dark ; 
 
 The fairest but a momentary spark ; 
 
 Naught is enduring but some evil fate 
 
 That still oppresses with its awful weight ; 
 
 Even when the skies are bending fresh from God, 
 
 And kindle splendor in the barest sod. 
 
 And pomp and music fill the spacious air, 
 
 E'en then thought shudders with a dim despair 
 
 It knows not what, but feels the brightest ray 
 
 Because the brightest will the first decay ; 
 
 That which is most enchanting to the soul 
 
 Seems ever haunted with funereal toll ; 
 
 O, why are are strength and beauty still apart ; 
 
 O why is Jove far mightier than thou art 
 
 Who from thy generous spirit wouldst outpour 
 
 Thy wealth of bliss to multiply the more ? 
 
 37 
 
38 
 
 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 But now midst pain and agony must toil 
 
 Then sink defeated to the ruthless soil ; 
 
 And universal joy from end to end, 
 
 O that I had the strength of Jove supreme, 
 
 I'd crown all lives beyond the richest dream. 
 
 In one bright sea of glory should extend ; 
 
 But I am weak, this wish is but a straw, 
 
 A brilliant nothingness before Jove's law ; 
 
 Our dearest, sweetest thoughts we must repress. 
 
 And sigh amidst our shallow loveliness ; 
 
 O when will strength and beauty flow in one ? t^ 
 
 will they ever in the ages wan ? 
 
 Will this strange conflict cease in pure delight 
 
 And Love become the everlasting Might ? 
 
 Will all that's good and beautiful and true 
 
 Swell into fruitage 'neath undying blue 
 
 Where storms shall never roar, nor thunders burst 
 
 Nor ruin threaten nor one life be cursed ? 
 
 1 dare not hope beneath Jove's Sceptre dread ; 
 The past is a wild waste no thought can tread ; 
 We know not whence we came ; a wildering bleak 
 Confronts us if our origin we seek ; 
 
 Flung into consciousness for one brief hour 
 Or endless age perhaps, — no greater dower. 
 For 'tis not endlessness high natures prize 
 But the rich fullness of all faculties ; — 
 And still our best is but a haunting sweet 
 That never in bright action is complete ; 
 And the strange end of all no voice can tell. 
 If brightest heaven or the profoundest hell. 
 
VENUS. 
 
 There is no hope, Prometheus, in the past 
 
 Or in the future ; fate both ways o'ercast 
 
 With clouds stupendous deepening still to deep 
 
 Through which the keenest vision cannot sweep ; 
 
 E'en Jove with all his power knows not the end. 
 
 And shrinks like least at what the fates portend ; 
 
 The Present is the only good we have ; 
 
 Seize it, Prometheus, with a spirit brave ; 
 
 Contend not with high Jove, leave him to fate ; 
 
 In good or bad at length will end his state ; 
 
 We cannot help the one, or other hold ; 
 
 Weak as a water-drop o'er ocean rolled 
 
 We only catch the sunshine of the hour ; 
 
 Beyond that joy we have no further power ; 
 
 Come, let us wander mid the sunny streams, 
 
 Haunted by nothing but delicious dreams ; 
 
 O let affection flow in tender ways, 
 
 And drown all thought in ever gleaming, days ; 
 
 Bright forms are round that bless the yearning sight, 
 
 They beckon thee to glory and delight ; 
 
 O hear the rythmic sweetness on the air 
 
 Wide flowing from a thousand mansions fair 
 
 Sinking to faintest with a deepening thrill 
 
 Then swelling till it seems all space to fill ; 
 
 It is the song of universal Love 
 
 That every care and sorrow doth remove, 
 
 And makes the heart the very home of bliss, 
 
 Careless of fate of everything that is, 
 
 Or that which may be in the dooms immense 
 
 Wrapped in sweet passion's golden fire intense. 
 
 39 
 
40 
 
 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 O come, Prometheus, things resistless flow 
 To a vague darkness that we cannot know ; 
 Strive as we may the roaring stream still bears ; 
 In love alone can we forget our fears. 
 In sweet communion of the soul with soul, 
 In yielding to each other's soft control 
 Where spirit blends with spirit's kindred fire 
 And finds a heaven for all its keen desire ; 
 
 there is beaut)^, wonder, joy divine ; 
 There is a soul that surely answers thine ; 
 T'will fill thee with a bliss unknown before 
 And thou canst all thy wealth of heart outpour ; 
 Forget the misery thou canst not stay 
 
 And do the good that lies in open way ; 
 There is a godlike path before thee still ; 
 And glory consonant to Jove's high will ; 
 And happiness that sweet days shall increase 
 And never but in happiness surcease." 
 
 " Fair Goddess, I accept thy joyous sway ; 
 
 1 cannot follow thoughts far devious way 
 Into the endless rayless dread profound. 
 
 Where there is neither touch, nor sight, nor sound, 
 
 But awful solitudes and awful heights 
 
 And awful depths, no cheerful flowery lights, 
 
 No dazzling forms, no pictures far away, 
 
 No warmth, no comfort, no inspiring ray, 
 
 Nothing of all this glory and delight ; 
 
 The sensual nature is defeated quite ; 
 
 And thought, bare thought alone pursues its course 
 
VENUS. 
 
 Weak, blind and struggling with enormous force ; 
 
 O cursed gift, whence comes its impulse vast ; 
 
 What is it urges to this fruitless quest 
 
 Into the infinite and eternal dark ? 
 
 Is it a brain disease's vivid spark ? 
 
 And is the lustre that we think so far 
 
 The outflung flashes of an atom's jar 
 
 In the disturbed chambers of the brain 
 
 And is it for a shadow that we strain ? 
 
 Or is it truth indeed sublimely great 
 
 The fountain glory of all life and fate ? 
 
 In either case it is a wretched gift 
 
 This thought that seems so grandly to uplift ; 
 
 For if it is the truth attracts our gaze 
 
 It only glimmers through an endless maze 
 
 And tortures us with its still doubtful glare ; 
 
 We do not know if 'tis the perfect fair ; 
 
 We only hope along the weary way 
 
 That we may sometime see its full flung ray ? 
 
 There is no certainty, a mere perhaps ; 
 
 Eternal dark eternal light enwraps ; 
 
 The more we toil, the farther truth recedes ; 
 
 The higher climb, still higher height succeeds ; 
 
 There is no mount serene on which to stand 
 
 And clearly view the illimitable grand ; — 
 
 Then farewell thought ; thy flights that seem so far 
 
 And all the golden gates of life unbar 
 
 Are but a short upbuilding from the sense, 
 
 A faint effulgence from faint evidence ; 
 
 O Goddess ! lead me to thy rosy bov/ers ; 
 
 41 
 
42 
 
 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 Crown with thy sparkling bliss the fleeting hours ; 
 
 I feel a vast desire my soul possess 
 
 To revel in thy gorgeous loveliness ; 
 
 My bitter struggling thought I'll leave behind 
 
 And in thy glowing realms contentment find." 
 
 Into the stately palace wandered they 
 Into the music, light, and flowers gay 
 And all the tumults that Prometheus felt 
 In one wide burning rapture seemed to melt. 
 
ASIA 
 
PROMETHEUS. 
 
 BOOK FOURTH. 
 
 ASIA. 
 Fair Asia wandered by a sparkling wood, 
 With pensive soul in love's delicious mood ; 
 The winds of Summer murmured softly by ; 
 Afar the ocean mingled with the sky ; 
 There was a regnant feeling in her breast, 
 Yet mixed with something of a vague unrest. 
 
 Prometheus stood beside her like a star ; 
 Her eyes their loveliest splendor did unbar 
 To greet the radiant god whose glory grand 
 Was linked with hers by love's entrancing band ; 
 He was the crown of all her eager life ; 
 He found in her forgetfulness of strife, 
 Something to charm his weary thought away 
 And fill each passing hour with brightest ray ; 
 Yet still at times his thought would grimly start 
 
4.6 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 And betkon him to act his nobler part ; 
 
 Fair Asia felt this in her tender soul, 
 
 That her sweet love did not enchain the whole ; 
 
 That there was something in his soaring mind 
 
 She had no part in, and so sadness twined 
 
 Its faintest shadow with her joyous light. 
 
 And there was just a tremor of affright ; 
 
 Scarce knowing what her urgent language meant 
 
 The lovely goddess spoke her discontent. 
 
 '' O why not always with me, mighty god ? 
 
 Why dost thou wander sometimes far abroad 
 
 And leave me sad amid a thousand blooms ; 
 
 For 'tis thy love alone my life illumes ; 
 
 Thy presence gives the roses all their light, 
 
 And turnest into day the darkest night ; 
 
 Why dost thou dwell in soHtary thought 
 
 E'en for a moment where my thought is not ? 
 
 Can I not have communion with thy soul ? 
 
 Can I not think with thee throughout the whole ? 
 
 Is there a beauty that enthralls thy heart, 
 
 That I cannot admire if thou'lt impart ? 
 
 O tell me what these wondrous visions are ; 
 
 Thinkst thou they are too subtle and too far 
 
 For my weak thought ? O teach me then dear god ! 
 
 Do not condemn me to a lesser mode 
 
 Of being than thine own divinity ; 
 
 let me all thy highest deepest see ; 
 
 1 will not tremble at one ghastly sight ; 
 
 For thou shalt guard me with thy tender might, 
 
ASIA. 47 
 
 And what is beautiful in thy keen eyes 
 
 Shall be more lovely as thou makest me wise ; 
 
 And in thy mind will gather greater glow, 
 
 Be sweetly pictured in diviner show ; 
 
 Of all thy manifold existence bright 
 
 The least, the greatest is my worship's right ; 
 
 Let there be nothing dark, but still reveal 
 
 Thy wildest wanderings to my waiting zeal." 
 
 " I cannot tell dear Asia if I ought. 
 
 For fearful things are sometimes in my thought ; 
 
 E'en Jove himself could scarcely bear their weight, 
 
 Thoughts of the infinite all ruling fate. 
 
 If that which has been or which yet may be 
 
 Throughout the ages of eternity. 
 
 Asia ! 1 do sometimes deeply pray 
 
 To quench these burning thoughts in thy sweet ray, 
 
 And in thy love to find divinest rest. 
 
 And cease forever this unfruitful quest ; 
 
 But still I cannot stop the pregnant pain, 
 
 But ever for some new truth must I strain. 
 
 And ever still ; for still the new unfolds 
 
 To grander truth and that on grander holds ; 
 
 1 would not desolate thy joyous life 
 
 With glimpses of that fierce enormous strife 
 From whence our little world of glory came. 
 To end sometime in its devouring flame ; 
 For thou wast made to carelessly enjoy 
 The beauteous present ; I would not destroy 
 With speculations vast thy happy state ; 
 
48 
 
 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 I would not crush thy charming soul elate 
 
 That thrills me with its sweetness day by day, 
 
 A tender brilliance to whose modest sway 
 
 I yield myself with all my struggling mind, 
 
 And sweet contentment in thy service find ; 
 
 Yet, if thou couldst go with me through the wild 
 
 And solitary ways of questions piled 
 
 Higher than god-like thought has ever toiled ; 
 
 And where the mightiest is forever foiled ; 
 
 O if thou couldst with kindly beaming eye 
 
 Assure me of thy endless sympathy ; 
 
 And make me o'er the rough hewn way rejoice, 
 
 And echo back my thought with gentle voice, 
 
 So that the horror of the darkest night 
 
 Is tremulous with thy close haunting light ; 
 
 O if thou couldst dear Asia, I'd reveal 
 
 The thoughts that I still struggle to conceal ; 
 
 Thou canst not bear them darling tender bride ! 
 
 They reach to far into the darkness wide ; 
 
 Thy soul was made for beauty, joy and light, 
 
 For lustres of the day and sweets of night, 
 
 For roses, music, wine, the fountain's play 
 
 The soft blue azure and the golden ray ; 
 
 Thou wast not made for dreary flights of thought 
 
 Into the vast interminable naught, 
 
 Where all the radiance of our god-like state 
 
 Evanishes in formless increate ; 
 
 And time and space with all their shining suit 
 
 Are lost in the sheer blank of Absolute ; 
 
 Dear Asia ! rest content with common place, 
 
ASIA. 
 
 Its beauty, poetry and warmth and grace ; 
 Thou canst not venture on these dizzy heights, 
 And if thou didst wouldst lose thy pure delights ; 
 These thoughts that sometime hurry me away 
 Are too enormous for thy fancy's play ; 
 They'd fill thy life with sorrow, yea, despair ; 
 Then question me no more, my fairest fair ! 
 I'll bring a thousand joys to charm thy soul 
 And soothe and comfort thee with soft control ; 
 I will unfold the secrets of the flower, 
 I'll show the water-drop's resplendent dower 
 I'll tell thee of the sweet and awful stars, 
 I'll pour thee music's most delightful bars, 
 I'll lead thee in the dance while naiads sing 
 And on thy brow the crown of laurel fling. 
 And hail thee Empress of my burning heart, 
 And worship thee heaven's noblest as thou art ; 
 But ask me not these riddles to unfold 
 That torture me with agony untold 
 And make my life seem like a shadow dim 
 A momentary flash midst darkness grim." 
 
 But still fair Asia with sweet urgence spoke, 
 Not knowing what a wildering storm she woke. 
 
 *' O dear Prometheus dost thou spurn my love 
 And make it partial ? O I'd gladly prove 
 That it can reach the utmost of thy thought, 
 And charm the way that is with terror fraught ; 
 Thou shalt have all my burning sympathy, 
 
 49 
 
50 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 In all thy dreariest toil I will be nigh ; 
 I care not for these flowers and music gay ; 
 Thy boundless love I want, for that I pray ; 
 So tell me, tell me thy far reaching thought 
 Unfold it, or I count thy love as naught." 
 
 " My secret soul is thine, sweet mistress bright ; 
 
 I will reveal it to thy spirit quite ; 
 
 Be strong to bear, be brave to think, be free 
 
 From dearest customs of thy infancy ; 
 
 All that has seemed so beautiful and good, 
 
 A holy and a dear beatitude. 
 
 Try, if thou canst in the severest light 
 
 Of the pure truth, then judge and choose the right. 
 
 In the long long ago to light we burst 
 
 From dark unconsciousness with Jove the first 
 
 The greatest in our flaming ranks sublime, 
 
 We knew not what we were in the far time. 
 
 Before we marched like conquerors through the sky ; 
 
 Not by our own sheer force did we defy 
 
 The mighty monarchs of the elder day ; 
 
 We triumphed by a law all must obey ; 
 
 The eternal spirit breathed us into life 
 
 And made us brilliant o'er the awful strife 
 
 And gave us one glad hour of might supreme 
 
 And clothed us with a God's surpassing beam ; 
 
 Beautiful empires were our portion then 
 
 And shining ages beyond furthest ken 
 
 Almost immortal seemed our conscious power 
 
ASIA, 
 
 And far and far away the fatal hour ; 
 
 But still Jove knew at length his power must end, 
 
 This consequence the laws themselves portend ; 
 
 From high to higher still they do evolve, 
 
 And what is less in grander must dissolve ; 
 
 And so we knew that something brighter far 
 
 Would rise before us like a glowing star 
 
 And conquer us and reign in bliss supreme 
 
 Another age, on time's far flowing stream. 
 
 To be succeeded by a brighter force 
 
 And that by brighter through the eternal course ; 
 
 But Jove revolted from the law's decree, 
 
 And thought by will to make his empire free 
 
 From the mutations of destructive time, 
 
 And make immortal its florescent prime ; 
 
 Vain work ! for what's begun can ne'er prevent 
 
 The increate that sweeps to its intent 
 
 By forces that no consciousness can grasp 
 
 Or time or space hold in their tiny clasp : — 
 
 Still I would count Jove's effort nobly grand 
 
 If ou pure justice he would take his stand, 
 
 And strive by simple virtue to extend 
 
 His shining empire, and the high fates bend 
 
 To the superior grandeur of his will ; 
 
 But dark injustice he would fierce instil 
 
 Into our minds, and make us spurn and crush 
 
 The feeble life that may sometime o'er rush 
 
 Our thousand thrones and hurl them into dark ; 
 
 He bids us do a wrong outright and stark, 
 
 A huge, huge wrong against ourselves and man. 
 
 51 
 
52 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 To make our lives no blessing but a ban ; 
 
 And all our godlihood a curse and shame, 
 
 No beauteous splendor, but a blasting flame : — 
 
 He thinks that man contains the precious seed 
 
 Of that enormous power which must succeed ; 
 
 That in the pregnant ages' glittering flow 
 
 He will surpass us in his godlike show 
 
 And reign upon a brighter throne than ours 
 
 With fairer promise and sublimer powers ; — 
 
 So he would crush him in his weak estate, 
 
 With cruel hand prevent his mind elate 
 
 From reaching to perfection fair and far ; 
 
 All gates to glorious action he would bar ; 
 
 And keep him helpless, still our sport and prey 
 
 Until he perish utterly away : — 
 
 O Asia ! is not this a cruel wrong 
 
 We with our godlike natures to prolong ? 
 
 We made for love and noble helpfulness 
 
 To be creators of such dire distress ? 
 
 It tortures me to see man suffer so ; 
 
 My heart goes out to him in all his woe ; 
 
 And I would succor him although I knew 
 
 My throne would perish in the deed so true ; 
 
 'Twould be a happiness supremely sweet 
 
 In such grand act to fling my power and seat ; 
 
 But Jove is vengeful and I dare not try. 
 
 His dread command would hurl me from the sky 
 
 And pour supremest horrors on my head ; 
 
 And I should cringe upon hell's lowest bed ; 
 
 Not in oblivion should I find sweet bliss : 
 
ASIA. 53 
 
 Infinite pain in distinct consciousness 
 
 Would be my doom through endless ages' thrall ; 
 
 And yet, sometimes, I think I'll bear it all 
 
 And bless mankind and give him happy fire 
 
 To satisfy and kindle his desire 
 
 That he may win the splendid store of fate 
 
 No matter what may be my wretched state : — 
 
 O Asia ! I have told you all my heart. 
 
 What shall I do ? Canst thou some hope impart ? 
 
 wilt thou bid me do the right, the true ? 
 These awful mysteries canst thou bravely view 
 And with a wondrous fervor give me light 
 
 To see my way along this dizzy night ? 
 One word, and man shall have the fire intense 
 To make him conquer in the ages hence ; 
 Thy love could make me dare imperial Jove 
 And in the lowest hell still soar above." 
 
 The voice of Asia broke in tender wail 
 
 " Jove wrong ? It cannot be, O do not rail 
 
 Against him dear Prometheus in such way ; 
 
 1 have lived always in his golden ray ; 
 
 I've always worshipped at his mighty throne, 
 And felt that he was king and lord alone ; 
 All my glad infancy's entrancing light 
 Seemed the production of his loving might ; 
 His great heart seemed to flow in blessings wide ; 
 I saw his glory upon every side ; 
 His endless beauty filled the glowing past 
 The fountain of Creation's wonder vast ; 
 
54 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 The stars outrayed his tenderness supreme, 
 The green earth floated in his fruitful beam, 
 Our spirits found their sweetest in his smile ; 
 It cannot be Prometheus, there is guile 
 In him who makes this ample world so bright ; 
 Will not the mighty god of all do right ? 
 
 canst thou understand his purpose vast ? 
 It must be good. Our reason is surpassed 
 By his immensity of thought divine ; 
 What's dark to us on him doth clearly shine 
 In virtue's fairest Hght. Accept his sway 
 And question not. 'Tis better to obey 
 
 In blindest faith a power that is so strong, 
 Than disobey because we think it wrong ; 
 For thought is feeble and it may mistake ; 
 How sad on error all our hopes to stake ; 
 
 1 cannot follow thy bleak thought indeed ; 
 Jove is my master and his law I heed ; 
 Outside of him all is so cold, so drear ; 
 He is my all in all Prometheus dear ! 
 
 'Tis he that makes thy love a precious gift ; 
 'Tis he my soul to thy great soul doth lift, 
 To make me capable of boundless joy. 
 To drink thy pure delight without alloy ; 
 To unseat Jove would unseat all my bliss ; 
 In thee and him my whole faith founded is ; 
 In one sweet truth your glories blended are ; 
 They cannot, cannot be dissimilar ; 
 I must love thee and I must worship him ; 
 Without his throne thy grace would shrivel dim ; 
 
ASIA. 
 
 O worship him Prometheus, as I do ; 
 
 We shall be happy then ; he must be true 
 
 To all that's highest, best. Thy thought is wrong. 
 
 Fling it aside. Thou art alone, no throng 
 
 Of radiant ministers would with thee go ; 
 
 Thou art but one. Can one, though godlike, know 
 
 Better than all the rest the eternal right ? 
 
 O do not for a dream wreck our delight : 
 
 What is vain man ? A foreign thing and low 
 
 Apart from us. Why should we pity show 
 
 To one on whom Jove sets the seal of hate, 
 
 For the defense of his immortal state ? 
 
 We are Jove's servants, and it is our care 
 
 To make him stronger and his love" more fair ; 
 
 We have no duties unto man at all ; 
 
 He is no kindred. Let him rise or fall 
 
 By his own effort and the laws of fate : 
 
 Why sacrifice for him our bright estate ? 
 
 If he has force and will enough to save, 
 
 Let him for his own self be wise and brave. 
 
 We cannot toil for him as for our own : 
 
 There is no sympathy that can atone ; 
 
 We must pursue our own path high and free, 
 
 And not be bound by his sad destiny ; 
 
 Why should we think of it, or let disturb 
 
 His strange misfortunes, our calm bliss superb ? 
 
 We will fulfil our life by our own law ; 
 
 The high throne blesses us, then why withdraw 
 
 From its serene and happy influence 
 
 In a vain struggle with man's impotence 
 
 55 
 
56 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 And be crushed with him by tremendous Jove ? 
 Man is outside of us, in spheres above 
 Our shining way by fate hath been ordained ; 
 Keep to thy course and let man be disdained ; 
 A worm that we have naught to do withal ; 
 With godlike natures lie our duties all ; 
 To one another we'll be kind and true ; 
 To Jove be faithful ; more we cannot do." 
 
 A shadow darkening o'er his face the while, 
 Prometheus answered her with gentle foil. 
 
 " I ought not to have shattered thy sweet mind 
 
 With thunders of such awful truth ; I find 
 
 Thou art not strong for what I fondly hoped ; 
 
 How couldst thou go where I have shuddering groped ; 
 
 I strong with thought's intensest, fiercest fire, 
 
 With wealth of varied knowledge to inspire ; 
 
 For thou art yet but little on thy way 
 
 Into the glories of immortal day ; 
 
 Thou knowest not the gloomy deeps around ; 
 
 In gentle custom thou art brightly bound ; 
 
 Jove has to thee been beautiful and bland ; 
 
 Outside of him thou canst not take thy stand 
 
 And judge him in the scales of truth and right ; 
 
 Outside of him there's naught to thee but night ; 
 
 All truth, all right are in his regnant soul. 
 
 These he creates and therefore doth control ; 
 
 Thou canst not think of him as subject still 
 
 To something higher than his sovereign will ; 
 
^ AS/A. 
 
 That there are everlasting truths and rights, 
 
 That still above him lift their changeless lights. 
 
 I know he gives thee many happy days ; 
 
 A fomitain of delight in myriad ways 
 
 He pours his glory o'er the earth and skies, 
 
 And makes for millions a fair paradise ; 
 
 Still he himself is not the ample source 
 
 Of this beneficent and glittering force, 
 
 For back of him the fountain doth outray ; 
 
 He's but the instrument of its vast play ; 
 
 If he should vanish, still the swelling Ught 
 
 Would rush and thunder in creative might 
 
 And fairer, sweeter kingdoms would display 
 
 Than that which yields to his all potent sway ; 
 
 Thou canst not, Asia, grasp this boundless thought 
 
 Child of the Present, all thy being wrought 
 
 Out of the woven web of things that are. 
 
 How canst thou penetrate beyond its bar, 
 
 To the eternal light of which thy sense 
 
 Has never had the faintest evidence ? 
 
 Forgive me Asia for the truth I spoke ; 
 
 Alas ! could I those fatal words revoke, 
 
 I'd bring thee to thy careless mind again ; 
 
 My eager yearning made me cruel then ; 
 
 But ah ! dear Asia this at least thou'lt bear ; 
 
 All life is sacred, precious everywhere ; 
 
 All life is one, the life of lordly Jove 
 
 Is not one whit man's savage life above, 
 
 In the essential glory of its state ; 
 
 Man is our kindred, and the cruel weight 
 
 57 
 
58 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 That bears him down will crush us in the end ; 
 If we help man, we to .ourselves extend 
 The hand that blesses and the good receive ; 
 The act is infinite that doth relieve ; 
 A blessing once begun will never cease, 
 From sphere to sphere of being will increase 
 With larger fruitage till all life shall glow 
 With the sweet gift that checks the lightest woe ; 
 O Asia ! spurn not anything that lives ; 
 The least to greatest still some glory gives 
 From its unmeasured opulence of life ; 
 For each thing with infinitude is rife ; 
 The eternal soul in every atom lurks, 
 And with the same divine effulgence works 
 In crawhng worm as in the flaming god ; 
 Defraud the meanest, we the whole defraud ; 
 
 Asia ! I am sure thou wilt not keep 
 Thy love within our circle's narrow sweep ; 
 We must love all things if we love at all ; 
 Thy nature is not so debased and small ; 
 Thou lovest everything thou dost behold ; 
 
 If thou sawst man thy heart would not grow cold, 
 But rush to him with pitiful desire ; 
 
 1 know the amplitude of thy love's fire ; 
 
 'Tis ignorance makes thee think thou lovest not ; 
 Thou hast not witnessed man's despiteful lot ; 
 Thou wouldst not scorn him in his sorrow's thrall 
 Thy heart would soften and thy tears would fall ; 
 And if thou didst not dare to give him aid. 
 But think that Jove forsooth must be obeyed, 
 
ASIA. 59 
 
 Still thou wouldst pray that Jove might mercy show ; 
 
 Come Asia through the bleak world let us go 
 
 Out of our sunny kingdom's pomp and gold, 
 
 And the dark heritage of man behold ; 
 
 At least we'll have a chance to love and pray, 
 
 If not to act in some heroic way ; 
 
 Better to feel in weakness, than in pride 
 
 And utter selfishness to turn aside, 
 
 'Twill do one good to weep for other's woe ; 
 
 And passion may perhaps to action flow ; 
 
 For not by forethought is the grandest done, 
 
 But sudden inspiration bursting on 
 
 In some miraculous and intense way ; 
 
 And ere one knows he wears the martyr's bay." 
 
 Fair Asia answered with faint voice and slow, 
 
 " Alas I know not what to think or do. 
 
 Thy strange words trouble me ; such awful deeps 
 
 Before me open, and my spirit creeps 
 
 Back in my wildered brain all crushed and dead ; 
 
 Why did I ask thee for thy visions dread ? 
 
 I had no thought they soared above Jove's sphere, 
 
 And all the beauty that I love so dear ; 
 
 It cannot be, it is a horrid dream ; 
 
 If Jove is false, all else is false I deem, 
 
 And art thou false O gracious noble one ! 
 
 In whom I bask as in the heavenly sun ? 
 
 It is not so, thou art supremely true. 
 
 Supremely beautiful ; my eager view 
 
 Can find no splendor so divine as thou ; 
 
6o PROMETHEUS. 
 
 Star of my life ! at thy dear feet I bow, 
 I cling to thee despite the whirHng roar ; 
 I rush to thee my ocean's only shore ; 
 I sink in music on thy mighty breast, 
 Oh gather me and hold me in thy rest ; 
 Forsake me not ; yes, let us wander forth 
 Into the desolate and cursed earth, 
 And look upon the sorrows strange of man ; 
 I'll pity him and love him all I can ; 
 And plead for him at Jove's eternal throne ; 
 Jove will do right and every wrong atone. 
 If wrong he has committed. It may be 
 He plans a finer bliss than we can see, 
 And all this darkness may unfold in light ; 
 Submit to Jove and with him still unite, 
 And trust his vaster reason, deeper skill , 
 Have faith in him that he is righteous still, 
 Despite what seems so cruel to thy mind ; 
 If man is cursed for good of other kind. 
 Is it not best ? Who knows but Love divine. 
 E'en in his ruin will more brightly shine ? 
 I'll go with thee throughout the barren land ; 
 See what man suffers at harsh fortune's hand ; 
 All that high Jove permits I'll eager do ; 
 No toil is too severe if he'll allow ; 
 But 'gainst his stern decree the way is black 
 And all my clinging love shall hold thee back. 
 
MAN. 
 
PROMETHEUS 
 
 BOOK FIFTH. 
 
 MAN. 
 
 THROUGH desolate and strange and awful ways 
 They wandered slow ; with cold and feeble rays 
 The sun was struggling through thick storming clouds ; 
 The bare and rocky hills were clothed with shrouds, 
 As if dead ages there bleak burial found ; 
 The woods were dreary with a dreary sound ; 
 Grey rivers crept through icy silent lands ; 
 In caves forlorn were grouped dim starveling bands 
 That looked askance as their bright pomp passed by, 
 And in its outer radiance followed shy ; 
 And now and then there was a sunny spot. 
 Where a faint verdure in the soil was wrought, 
 And something of supremer light was seen 
 In the rough faces of the shrinking men ; 
 And exhibitions of a strength sublime, 
 
64 
 
 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 Rude terrible like monsters of the slime ; — 
 
 They saw one battling with a mighty beast, 
 
 His weapon a small tree torn from its rest ; 
 
 His eye was flaming like a comet's glare ; 
 
 Enormous wasteful blows enrage the air ; 
 
 At length one lucky hit makes spouting flow 
 
 From crashing skull the life blood of his foe ; 
 
 They saw the deer start from the darkling tree, 
 
 And from the naked hunter sounding flee ; 
 
 Who still pursued it with uplifted stone, 
 
 That with huge force and accurate sight was thrown ; 
 
 Beside the flood they saw the fisher stand, 
 
 A stick with sharpened flint-head in his hand, 
 
 To strike with doubtful skill the gliding fin ; 
 
 A dainty meal for his cold hearth to win ; — 
 
 So everywhere appeared the conflict vast, 
 
 Of man with nature ; still his soul surpassed 
 
 Her grimmest horror and severest breath ; 
 
 He would not yield his spirit unto death ; 
 
 There was a courage and a constancy 
 
 Within his bosom, that would still defy 
 
 The harshest thunders of almighty Jove ; 
 
 Would he at length 'gainst all successful prove ? 
 
 Or would he sink benumbed in brutish sense ? 
 
 Hints and suggestions of vast excellence, 
 
 The keen Immortals saw upon their way, 
 
 Fair possibilities midst grim decay ; 
 
 Sweet hopes and aspirations midst the gloom ; 
 
 The shrunk soul yearning for diviner room, 
 
 And seeing in the front of dreariest skies, 
 
MAN. 65 
 
 Something to kindle hope's bright ecstacies ; 
 
 They saw one with rude harp attempt to sing ; 
 
 Seeking in music his wild soul to fling 
 
 And sound the awful joy he felt within, 
 
 In broken, vague, and melancholy din. 
 
 Whose coarse and jangling rhythm faintly rose 
 
 At seldom intervals to noblest close ; 
 
 The most was but a sorry jumbling sound 
 
 That seemed to sink unmeaning to the ground, 
 
 And find a barren grave where dead leaves lay ; 
 
 No full and airy notes to float away 
 
 And charm the spirit through delightful space, 
 
 To gaze through beauty on truth's fairest face ; 
 
 The crass noise seemed to tomb the spirit more. 
 
 In dumb harsh misery to crush it lower ; 
 
 Despair sat on the faded singer's brow. 
 
 That his strong heart should find such utterance low 
 
 So weak, so pitiful, a savage moan ; 
 
 Not the clear sweetness that he sought alone. 
 
 Where he might bury all his bitter woe,- 
 
 To find a resurrection in the glow ; — 
 
 Then with a desperate and angry cry. 
 
 He broke the instrument and flung it by. 
 
 They saw one striving with the plastic clay, 
 
 To mould in outward shape, the inward ray 
 
 That struggled through the darkness of his mind ; 
 
 A form majestic, huge, fantastic, blind ; 
 
 Still with faint traces of supremest power, 
 
 That needed but the favorable hour, 
 
 The warmth and brilliance of the heavenly light. 
 
66 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 To gleam in wonders manifold and bright. 
 
 They saw one by the rocky shore and bleak 
 
 Look o'er the ocean's dark and heavy break, 
 
 With wistful stare ; as if within his soul, 
 
 He longed to try the awful billow's roll, 
 
 And trust his future to the endless surge. 
 
 And lose himself beyond the dancing verge ; 
 
 Perhaps some happy land was far away, 
 
 Basking forever in the golden ray ; 
 
 Where all the hopes that burned within his breast, 
 
 Might find fruition in unending zest ; 
 
 But he was chained unto the rocky shore ; 
 
 All pitiless the noise of ocean's roar ; 
 
 And back he shuddered to his cave again, 
 
 To feed on acorns among squallid men. 
 
 They saw a maiden with the faint sweet grace, 
 
 Of woman's perfect beauty on her face, 
 
 Within her lover's arms, dead, white, and cold ; 
 
 He shivering, silent, grasping with strong hold 
 
 The body to his scarcely beating heart, 
 
 As if he would the precious life blood start, 
 
 To roll again upon its sparkling way, 
 
 In ruby cheek and eyes impulsive ray ; 
 
 Al motionless ! Ah ! whither now was fled 
 
 The spirit ? Into what vast horror dread 
 
 Was gone the light, the glory of the past, 
 
 The tenderness, the love ? So stark, so ghast, 
 
 Still and dissolving in his passion's clutch ; 
 
 No answer, no pulsation to his touch ; 
 
 With curses flung into the empty air 
 
MAN. 6'; 
 
 He dug her grave and all hope hurried then; 
 He looked upon the iron skies above, 
 Nor caught one glimpse of everlasting love ; 
 Or pitying eye to help him midst his doom, 
 Around, above, beneath unending gloom. 
 
 Fair Asia wept when she beheld such waste, 
 This lofty nature cruelly abased, 
 Flung back at every point from higher life, 
 Stabbed to the heart by envy's sharpest knife ; 
 Could it be right to crush in pangs of birth 
 This wealth of promise, this uncounted worth ? 
 Who knew what might be in the soul of man, 
 If he could only reach the shining van. 
 And have a chance in the vast march of all. 
 To win his best and be imperial ? 
 
 Prometheus turned to Asia with such thought. 
 His eyes with strong desire and pity fraught. 
 
 " See what man is and what he tries to be ; 
 
 How low in state, and yet what quality 
 
 Of thought and action in his nature lies ; 
 
 How god-like, to what glory he might rise 
 
 If Jove would help him with his outstretched might, 
 
 And open all the glowing realms of light. 
 
 And give him free and joyous course to win. 
 
 What his large nature yearns for deep within ; 
 
 Instead of crushing him with deadly spite ; 
 
 Thou canst not think dear Asia it is right. 
 
6S PROMETHEUS. 
 
 So to defend and keep his mighty seat ? 
 
 It must be founded on a wrong complete, 
 
 To need such suffering to maintain its court ; 
 
 The truly right needs no such dark support ; 
 
 Naught is so sacred that another's woe 
 
 Must help perpetuate its pomp and show. 
 
 Ah ! the most sacred, the most truly right 
 
 Seeks not its own, but other's pure delight ; 
 
 It gathers not itself in cruel pride. 
 
 But flows in blessing spreading far and wide. 
 
 And finds its grandest power in bending low 
 
 To help the weak ; not strike the dastard blow ; 
 
 What glory is it to high Jove, that man 
 
 Must find eternal ruin in his ban. 
 
 And shudder as his thunders roll and break, 
 
 And in rude cavern's chilling darkness quake : 
 
 How much more god-like would Jove's sceptre be 
 
 If it bore light instead of misery 
 
 To man, and starred his struggling way along 
 
 With gentle admonitions, till his strong 
 
 And cultured spirit found its happy day ; 
 
 What if Jove vanished in the new-born ray ? 
 
 Still in immortal blessing would he live. 
 
 To countless ages regnant influence give ; 
 
 What throne, what pomp, what outward majesty, 
 
 What thunders rolling through the trembling sky 
 
 Could equal this far deepening stream of love, 
 
 On whose bright bosom his best life would move ? 
 
 O that Jove had this wisdom deep and sweet. 
 
 To lose his throne in love's sublime defeat : 
 
MAN. 69 
 
 To die, yet live again in other's power ; 
 
 Be fruitful still in the world's happier hour ; 
 
 What if he save his throne by direst wrong 
 
 And through eternity his pomp prolong ? 
 
 'Twill be forever haunted by man's ghost ; 
 
 A ghastly splendor and a hollow host — 
 
 With lies and hate and constant fear and dread — 
 
 For purity and virtue will be dead ; 
 
 And sweet sincerity and honest thought ; 
 
 And the bright praise that comes from lips unbought ; 
 
 'Twill be a hell of slavery and pride ; 
 
 E'en Jove himself would wish that he had died, 
 
 For like a sepulchre his throne will be 
 
 In the cold horrors of eternity ; — 
 
 But he cannot prevail though man may fall 
 
 Crushed utterly his life and spirit all ; 
 
 Still other powers will rise and sweep along ; 
 
 The UniverC-. mil crush each puny wrong ; 
 
 The Right will triumph though we know not how ; 
 
 I may be faithless and my slavish brow 
 
 May sink to dust beside Jove's fallen state , 
 
 But good will shine o'er all, or soon or late." 
 
 " All dark and strange ; " said Asia in tones low, 
 
 " The right and wrong of it I cannot know ; 
 
 My reason fails me in the bitter task ; 
 
 No thought Jove's secret purpose can unmask ; 
 
 I pity man indeed and I would aid 
 
 If Jove's severe command were only stayed ; 
 
 Oh ! I would toil for these with my whole heart 
 
70 
 
 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 With life and all my glory would I part 
 
 And go with thee into unending night, 
 
 If we could star their way with deathless light ; 
 
 But Jove forbids, and Jove to me is all ; 
 
 I cannot free me from his mighty thrall 
 
 The bright Creator of my life and joy ; 
 
 My faith in him no knowledge can destroy ; 
 
 'Tis founded on sweet infancy's delight 
 
 And all the beauty of my childhood bright 
 
 And all the grace and wonder of the world 
 
 In endless pomp and tenderness unfurled ; 
 
 I cannot, cannot yield this happy faith ; 
 
 Beyond is desolation, gloom and death ; 
 
 I will not trust my reason nor my sight, 
 
 But still believe that Jove the King is right. 
 
 O shut thine eyes to man's degraded lot ; 
 
 Let all his toils and troubles be forgot ; 
 
 Come wander with me through the sunny lands 
 
 And join again the bright celestial bands ; 
 
 This pity tortures me, yet it is all 
 
 That we can do ; our tears do useless fall ; 
 
 Man knows it not and they can help him not ; 
 
 Then why be pained for him since it is naught ;- 
 
 Who knows but far the past's deep womb within 
 
 His ancestry transgressed to fearful sin. 
 
 And brought this punishment on them, on these, 
 
 Through Justice executing its decrees — 
 
 And seeking satisfaction for the wrong 
 
 That countless generations still prolong ; 
 
 And man must suffer to extremity. 
 
MAN. ^ I 
 
 Because this crime can never pardoned be ; 
 
 And Jove but vindicates high Justice' claim ; 
 
 So mercy must withdraw and let the flame 
 
 Of vengeance roll on sinful hapless man, 
 
 Whose wild will violates the perfect plan. 
 
 Ah, who can sound the vast of Justice' scope ? 
 
 We cannot judge by what we wish or hope ; 
 
 That which is cruel to our bounded mind 
 
 Is righteous to the vision unconlined ; 
 
 A stern necessity of law supreme, 
 
 To make triumphant some all-glorious scheme. 
 
 Is it not so Prometheus ? grant me this ; 
 Be happy with me in eternal bliss ; 
 Forget this tragedy, there must be guilt 
 On which this hard decree of Jove is built." 
 
 Prometheus answered to fair Asia's guile 
 As into happier lands they walked the while. 
 
 " Think not that Justice can exact from one, 
 
 The penalty of sin by others done ; 
 
 Each for himself must stand before the bar, 
 
 And bear on his own front the awful scar ; 
 
 Each for himself must meet the righteous doom ; 
 
 From his own deed endure the blast or bloom ; 
 
 Think not that Jove can vindicate the Right ; 
 
 In its own blaze it is forever bright ; 
 
 In heart and conscience of the least of life ; 
 
 It needs no haughty Jove with thunders rife 
 
7^ 
 
 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 To make its crowned beauty nobler seem ; 
 
 It's grand enough in its own gentle beam 
 
 Within the soul of God and man and beast ; 
 
 It cannot by heaven's mightiest be increased : — 
 
 And think not Justice is a strange affair ; 
 
 And what is foul to us may still be fair 
 
 In some immensity of thought divine ; 
 
 With the same radiance truth doth ever shine ; 
 
 And we can see it with the open soul 
 
 As if our piercing glance embraced the whole ; 
 
 The Right inimitable is still the same 
 
 As that which in our bounded brain doth flame ; 
 
 And we can grasp the truth as well as Jove, 
 
 And know the secrets of eternal love. 
 
 Think not that man is sinful, he's divine ; 
 
 In all his woes the god-like still doth shine ; 
 
 He is the victim of a cruel fate ; 
 
 Crushed to the dust that we may hold our state ; 
 
 Upon our shoulders rests the dreadful crime ; 
 
 *Tis we that ought to wallow in the slime, 
 
 And feel the thunders crashing o'er our heads 
 
 Instead of joying love on flowery beds. 
 
 Asia, Asia, could I ope thy soul 
 
 To that vast knowledge where my thoughts outroll, 
 
 1 know that thou wouldst urge to noblest deed ; 
 To save mankind wouldst eager bid me speed 
 To filch the fire of Heaven, that he might live 
 And all his wealth of mind fair fruitage give ; 
 O Asia at thy sweet eyes' glittering call 
 
 How I would rush to break man's bitter thrall ; 
 
MAN, 73 
 
 Oh ! what a joy would quiver in my frame 
 
 If in thy soul I saw the kindling flame 
 
 That answered to this burning thought of mine ; 
 
 Ah ! then indeed I should be god divine 
 
 In helpfulness and power and sacrifice ; 
 
 For in thy heart would be full paradise ; 
 
 Though Jove should thunder and the -vulture tear, 
 
 And heaven bend darkling in wild forms of fear ; 
 
 Oh ! I could meet all suffering, outward woes 
 
 Piled numberless, I could disdain all shows, 
 
 All pomp of throned splendor in the sky, 
 
 All joys of golden immortality ; 
 
 If in this deed sublime thy heart were fast. 
 
 Tender and clinging with love's empire vast ; — 
 
 With thy close soul, I could all fate defy ; 
 
 And reign in bliss though tortured utterly ; 
 
 The fainting flesh might sink beneath the rack, 
 
 My spirit's kingdom would be still intact ; 
 
 And Jove himself could have no prouder sway 
 
 Than I within thy passion's deathless ray ; 
 
 O canst thou not throw off stern custom's chain 
 
 And in the law of thine own being reign ? 
 
 And in the everlasting truth stand clear 
 
 Where creeds of time and sense must disappear 
 
 In the pure glory of the primal light ? 
 
 Illuminate and crown thy inward sight ; 
 
 O stir me with thy woman's weakness strong 
 
 Against this cruel hideous awful wrong ; 
 
 Thy tears are stronger than a giant's rod ; 
 
 Thy soft affection than the thundering god ; 
 
74 
 
 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 O give me inspiration for this task, 
 
 Thy cordial voice is all the help I ask 
 
 Thrilling with thy dear spirit's sympathy ; 
 
 A thousand admonitions from the sky, 
 
 And deeps of earth, and inward ecstacy, 
 
 Do urge me onward to this mighty act ; 
 
 O help me Asia ; do not be contract 
 
 To the dull pomp of Jove's false cruel way ; 
 
 O bid me usher in the perfect day, 
 
 That love and justice may prevail o'er earth, 
 
 And man unfold his boundless latent worth." 
 
 The soft blue skies Avere bending once again, 
 The low winds murmuring, and the verdant plain 
 And winding streams, the grove and uplands gay 
 Were shining in the wide benignant ray. 
 
 Fair Asia like a sun-crowned wave that dies 
 Along the shore in strange sad melodies 
 Upon Prometheus' breast in passion broke, 
 And grief and terror in wild accents spoke. 
 
 " O no, thou wast not made for such dark fate, 
 To sink in ruin from thy godHke state 
 And drag me with thee to the cold abyss. 
 Blind, bleeding, tortured, exiled from all bliss, 
 The warmth and glory that enfold my life 
 To sweet oblivion of the bitter strife, 
 That rolls and thunders in the glooms immense, 
 Beyond the circle of our largest sense ; 
 
MAN. 75 
 
 I know not, grasp not these eternal things ; 
 
 I shudder backward where my own world flings 
 
 With happy influence and gentle stress 
 
 Its pomp and beauty and dear lovliness ; 
 
 Sweet sights and sounds that I can comprehend 
 
 Still glittering on my vision without end, 
 
 And filling all my longing to the brim. 
 
 Oh, keep me, keep me from the darkness grim ; 
 
 Oh, fold me in thy arms, and push away 
 
 The everlasting, burning awful ray 
 
 That seems to wither up my little world, 
 
 And leave me desolate o'er a wide waste hurled ; 
 
 I am too weak for this unmeasured height ; 
 
 Only the uncreate endures the sight ; 
 
 I must find joy alone in this sweet land, 
 
 These bowers and groves, and sea, and echoing strand. 
 
 Where I can dream the happy hours away, 
 
 Entranced by fancy's warm delightful ray ; 
 
 It may be false, but still more true to me 
 
 Than all the grandeurs of eternity : — 
 
 And in this world, thou art my constant sun ; 
 
 If thou dost fail then all my joy is gone ; 
 
 Thou art eternity to my poor heart ; 
 
 The fountains of all life in thee do start ; 
 
 Thou dost belong to me, thy word is pledged ; 
 
 To what my love demands thy soul is hedged ; 
 
 For thou didst promise to be true to me ; 
 
 What owest thou to lost humanity ? 
 
 [f it had once a claim, 'tis vanished now 
 
 Cn the clear fervor of thy marriage vow ; 
 
"]() PROMETHEUS. 
 
 I yielded to thee with a trusting soul ; 
 
 And felt I found in thee a lasting goal ; 
 
 O thou art false if thou dost turn away 
 
 And leave me miserable for man's vile clay ; 
 
 It cannot be that the eternal right 
 
 Demands that thou my happy Hfe shouldst blight, 
 
 When I have given it in pure faith to thee, 
 
 In love, in friendship, in sincerity ; 
 
 dost thou spurn it in thy reason's pride ? 
 Am I to be contemned as Jove defied ? 
 
 Wilt crush my heart that man may be supreme ? 
 
 And fling me reckless on the roaring stream, 
 
 That he may mount the topmost wave of power ? 
 
 He has no claim I say ; to me the dower 
 
 Of all thy love belongs. By Jove's right hand 
 
 That bound us in the golden marriage band ; 
 
 By all the happy skies that bent above 
 
 With stars and sunshine on our stainless love ; 
 
 1 call thee mine, I am thy duty's sphere ; 
 There is no other with a right so clear ; 
 
 I cling to thee with love's o'ermastering glow ; 
 I will not, will not, will not let thee go." 
 
APOLLO 
 
PROMETHEUS 
 
 BOOK SIX. 
 
 APOLLO. 
 
 AMID a bower of roses' sweetest glow 
 Fair Asia slept forgetful of her woe, 
 And calmest slumbers waved their wings above, 
 Her spirit floated in far dreams of love ; 
 And all the terrors of her waking sight 
 Were lost in beauteous shapes of endless light. 
 
 Prometheus soul was filled with fightings keen 
 He strode beneath the forest's arching green. 
 
 "Entangled in a woman's weakness wild 
 
 What can I do ? Why have I thus beguiled 
 
 The pure bright vision of my early thought 
 
 With tender love ? that on my lonely lot 
 
 Shouldst ne'er have dawned with fire and gentle sway 
 
8o PROMETHEUS 
 
 Blinding from duty with its happy ray ; 
 
 And now my duty calls me to my love, 
 
 To blissful treason to the lights above ; 
 
 How can I break this clinging heart so dear 
 
 That gives me all its wealth of passion clear ? 
 
 Whose lot with mine the fates so closely link, 
 
 I cannot to a separate labor shrink ; 
 
 I must drag her through all my dreadful meed : 
 
 I cannot do it ; love forbids the deed ; 
 
 By vows impetuous I am bound for aye 
 
 To make her pathway one long stretch of day, 
 
 Where hope shall ever wave its glittering wings ; 
 
 With strong arm put away the thorns and stings ; 
 
 And keep her soul and body in pure joy, 
 
 And answer her true look without alloy ; 
 
 What right have I to fling this shadow vast 
 
 Upon her spirit, and her life o'ercast 
 
 With awful and immeasurable woe 
 
 Whose dire eternities no thought can know ? 
 
 Ah ! must I be so cruel to her weak ? 
 
 And on her trusting soul such terrors wreak ? 
 
 And be so false to all the words I said 
 
 To win the treasure of her marriage bed ? 
 
 Must I not yield me to her fond, fond love, 
 
 And from my struggling mind high aims remove 
 
 And bend in adoration at her feet ; 
 
 And in her eyes find all my will complete ? 
 
 Is not that glory and delight enow ? 
 
 What fairer face could give me sweeter glow ? 
 
 What softer breast could paradise my life ? 
 
APOLLO. 8 1 
 
 What lovelier soul entrance from bitter strife ? 
 
 what full happiness before me lies 
 
 In her love's kingdom's endless pageantries ; 
 
 Could I not there forget these dictates stern ; 
 
 And duty into sweet affection turn ? 
 
 And this strange prompting out of starless night 
 
 In the clear conscience of our pure delight 
 
 Neglect as glancing impulse of a dream ? 
 
 Her voice, her smile, her eyes, her hope, supreme ? 
 
 Ah me ! I cannot quench these thoughts divine 
 
 That with such mystic beauty o'er me shine ; 
 
 1 cannot turn from their immortal light ; 
 I cannot fling them into endless night ; 
 They haunt me with a wonder and a joy 
 As if on some high mission to employ 
 That shall outreach a million years of woe 
 And kindle nature to its perfect glow ; 
 They are suggestions of that truth eterne 
 Whence universal light and glory burn ; 
 Sweet admonitions from the soul of things ; 
 The splendors that the primal fountain flings ; 
 Oh, how can I be false to their dear call ; 
 And from their perfect beauty weakly fall ; 
 'Tis they that make my life a sense sublime 
 
 And crowd with flashing pomps all space and time ; 
 O, empty, vain and worthless all my soul 
 Without this rapture from the gleaming whole ; 
 My love would be a very curse to me 
 Without such visions of eternity ; 
 And Asia seem a fading ghost of air 
 
82 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 An unsubstantial dream, a deathly fair ; 
 Dire contradictions of my love and life ! 
 Hither and thither rolls the ceaseless strife ; 
 I cannot yield my love or yield my thought ; 
 Both should be one, for without both I'm naught ; 
 -But they are separate as cold and heat ; 
 Only by crushing this, is that complete ; 
 I cannot choose, and yet I know I must, 
 Fates that I cannot stop still onward thrust." 
 
 A thousand glories seemed to fill the air, 
 A sunrise brilliance and a noonday glare. 
 The glittering pomps of evening's varied gold, 
 In one fresh beauty, one, yet manifold ; 
 Tender, yet piercing with o'erflowing light 
 The god Apollo beamed upon the sight ; 
 With voice as winsome as the bird's low song 
 Yet deep as ocean's thunder glad and strong 
 He spoke swift words of comfort and reproof 
 Divine Imagination's gentle scoff. 
 
 " Foolish Prometheus, why this storm of woe 
 When love unfolds to thee its crowned show ? 
 When all that gods can dream of passion's bliss 
 Is mirrored in thy Asia's perfectness ; 
 There is no higher beauty for thine eyes 
 In all the million glories of the skies. 
 Why then tliis sadness on thy beaming brow ? 
 This far-off look above the here and now 
 Into the dark, outside the golden sun ? 
 
APOLLO. 
 
 Thought and huagination should be one ; 
 
 Beyond the radiant pictures of the mind 
 
 Seek not to penetrate the unconfined ; 
 
 'Tis not for us to search that endless void 
 
 Where all our certain knowledge is destroyed 
 
 And we are all flung upon a pathless sea 
 
 Without one star to guide. Infinity 
 
 Is without shape or voice or vision sweet ; 
 
 In sheer blank nothingness it is complete ; 
 
 What truth can it contain to help or save ? 
 
 To us it is the darkness of the grave ; 
 
 Its bleak negation quenches living thought ; 
 
 Its only verity, a rayless naught ; 
 
 Avoid it then, a puzzle without end ; 
 
 And revel in the things we comprehend 
 
 Where there is joy and beauty for the soul ; 
 
 The finite is for us the gleaming whole ; 
 
 Here all divinity, all glory lies, 
 
 All we can dream or hope of paradise ; 
 
 There is no call to duty or delight 
 
 Beyond its scenes and shapes and pictures bright ; 
 
 It is our heaven and all that we can be ; 
 
 Our mortal or immortal destiny ; 
 
 Here the full heart must find its amplest play ; 
 
 And what more joyous than its bright array 
 
 Of sun and cloud, and bending blue, and green 
 
 Of sweeping earth and water's tossing sheen ; 
 
 O, how they thrill the spirit with sweet mirth ; 
 
 And every hour seems still a happier birth ; 
 
 Prometheus, let thy ghostly thought lie dead 
 
 83 
 
34 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 Beneath the flowers that summer winds shall spread ; 
 Entomb it in the glory of to-day ; 
 Let it desolve in sparkling bliss away, 
 And haunt thee only in the radiant eyes 
 Of Asia, thrilling with love's ecstacies." 
 
 " O, sweet Apollo, would that I could see 
 
 With thee alone the bright immensity 
 
 That circles in the bounded realms of sense, 
 
 And worship only its magnificence ; 
 
 That I could bid the infinite avaunt ; 
 
 But still its constant mystery will haunt, 
 
 And thought pursues its measureless dim flight 
 
 Beyond imagination's farthest light, 
 
 And on its dark and toilsome way discerns 
 
 A something that with mystic wonder bums. 
 
 That seems to fling all pictures of the sense 
 
 To dull vacuity and impotence. 
 
 O, is there not Apollo o'er our sight 
 
 In formless majesty the Eternal Right ? 
 
 And shall we in the joys of time and sense 
 
 Forget its uncreated excellence ? 
 
 Scorn its command in cowardly delight ? 
 
 Shall we be slaves to Jove and do despite 
 
 To all the noblest visions of the mind ? 
 
 Shall w^e be base oppressors and unkind 
 
 Because he bids us ? And so mock the light 
 
 Whose effluent glory makes the world so bright, 
 
 The fount within, without whose vivid beam 
 
 All nature would a ghastly desert seem ; 
 
APOLLO. 85 
 
 What think you ? Can you basely bend beneath 
 
 The yoke of Jove and heartless flatteries breath, 
 
 And fill his ears with songs of worship sweet, 
 
 When you despise him in your soul's true heat ? 
 
 He is no god in inward thought and worth ; 
 
 A very tyrant, strong by honor's dearth ; 
 
 How can you flourish in his shallow light ? 
 
 Nor seek to crush hira in thy glory's might 
 
 And hurl him from his throne with songs of power. 
 
 And bring pure gladness with thy beauty's dower ? 
 
 O great Apollo, how canst thou submit, 
 
 To one that seems so worthless to thy wit ? 
 
 So opposite to all thy gentle blood ? 
 
 Coarse, uncongenial, bitter, brutal god ? " 
 
 " I cannot see Prometheus with thy glance ; 
 
 Eternal right is but the radiance 
 
 Of all that's beautiful in time and sense ; 
 
 The utter splendor and the bloom intense.. 
 
 Of the delight and wonder of the world 
 
 In pennons of sweet stars and flowers unfurled 
 
 And dancing waves along the sunny shore ; 
 
 To my full heart there can be nothing more ; 
 
 Beyond is a dull blank ; what's right or wrong 
 
 Within that vast inane, what spirit strong 
 
 Can ever guess, unknowable for aye. 
 
 O'er its wide bosom not one thought can stray; 
 
 Within these sparkling limits we abide ; 
 
 And here alone can right and wrong decide ; 
 
 Hence all my soul's delight I freely choose. 
 
86 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 If I did otherwise I should abuse 
 
 My being's law ; be gloomy without cause ; 
 
 I seek no other than my mind's applause, 
 
 And harmony with all this flowing life 
 
 Whose glistening pictures still with truth are rife ; 
 
 And what care I for Jove and all his suit ? 
 
 He's but the bitter to the spicy fruit ; 
 
 The shadow that unfolds a greater light ; 
 
 The cloud that makes the blue more tender bright ; 
 
 He's but my fancy's darksome slave to weave 
 
 More brilliant pictures than pure good can give ; 
 
 I scorn him and I laugh at his commands 
 
 For still the Lovely in brave show expands 
 
 And smiles in triumph o'er his tyrant's throne ; 
 
 He's but a rock on whose dark sides are thrown 
 
 The waves that sing and sparkle far away 
 
 Glancing and changing to more splendent ray ; 
 
 It is not worth my while to disobey, 
 
 And set myself against his huge array. 
 
 And million spirits that his arm can call 
 
 To hurl me from my orb in darkling fall ; 
 
 What would be gained but misery for me ? 
 
 And for great Jove new pomp and victory ? 
 
 Ah, let him reign and ruin if he will ; 
 
 In mine own beauty I will revel still ; 
 
 Still I am sovereign in my heart and brain 
 
 There I alone admit or joy, or pain." 
 
 " And canst thou not Apollo wise and free 
 Bend some regard to man's low misery ? 
 
APOLLO. 
 
 Wilt thou forsake him in thy beauty's pride, 
 
 And through the heavens in cold and darkness ride, 
 
 Nor cast one beam upon his weary strife, 
 
 To give him glimpses of a happier life ? 
 
 Is this thy love, thy honor, and thy worth ? 
 
 Is this the glory of thy god-like birth ? 
 
 Do you not yearn to give him happy days ? 
 
 To bless him with thy many colored rays, 
 
 To crown his pathway with effulgent skies ' 
 
 Thou canst not be divine if thou'lt despise 
 
 The meanest life that crawls upon the sod ; 
 
 Why man then with the powers of a god ? 
 
 Why crush him whence a life divine might burst 
 
 If he were free as we were free at first ? 
 
 Is this thy being's law to make thy bliss 
 
 Out of another being's wretchedness ? 
 
 Suppose that we were struggling in the same 
 
 To reach the fountain of our nature's flame ; 
 
 To be our best and noblest and most bright ; 
 
 Would we not wish for help from god-like might ? 
 
 Would we not stretch up eager hands of prayer 
 
 For light and comfort from the dreary air ? 
 
 Why should we not in love and mercy then, 
 
 Give those sweet blessings that might come again 
 
 With double grace when some far stroke of fate 
 
 Shall make us feel the proud oppressors' weight ? 
 
 We are not safe with all our pomp and power ; 
 
 E'en Jove still shudders at the awful hour 
 
 He feels may come when ruin shall o'erspread 
 
 And leave him slave to all, or cold and dead." 
 
 87 
 
88 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 " Whatever is, is right ; " Apollo said 
 
 " I pity man to such strange misery wed 
 
 But through this misery we clearer see 
 
 Our own superior worth and destiny ; 
 
 For still by contrast, truth we deepest know ; 
 
 Light shines o'er darkness with supremest glow ; 
 
 Pleasure is sweetest after darts of pain ; 
 
 There must be discord for the perfect strain ; 
 
 And so man's bitterness but makes more bright 
 
 Our glad preeminence and thrones of light. 
 
 We pity him, but cannot help his woe ; 
 
 The fates alone can give him fairer show ; 
 
 They may upUft him to the shining skies 
 
 Higher than we with all our pageantries — 
 
 Still if fate sends us to hell's low degree 
 
 We'll bear it with heroic energy ; 
 
 And trust to fortune with unshrinking heart 
 
 That still again we'll have the better part ; 
 
 For thus the endless cycles come and go 
 
 Crowned with bliss, or thundering with dark woe ; 
 
 We take our chances on the surging sweep ; 
 
 The topmost sunshine or the midnight deep ; 
 
 In darkness we will hope for some sweet morn, 
 
 And scan the future 'till the day is born ; 
 
 And in the day we'll think not of the night. 
 
 Forgetting all in the far flowing Hght. 
 
 The day is ours, Prometheus, and the joy ; 
 
 One long, long wave of bliss without alloy ; 
 
 Then let us seize its brightest blooming sweet, 
 
 And in the gorgeous present live complete ; 
 
APOLLO. 
 
 Come, listen to the song of now and here, 
 And let thy shuddering foresight disappear ; 
 Drown past and future in the rush divine 
 Of what is in thy heart to-day and mine." 
 
 Apollo swept his harp of gleaming gold, 
 And fitful measures in sweet preludes rolled ; 
 And then the full song in its ample sweep 
 Like the glad music of the foam-bossed deep ; 
 Like winds that tingle through the forests green ; 
 Like murmurs of the fountain's falling sheen ; 
 The song of lovely things that thrill the sense, 
 Floating and flaming o'er the bright immense. 
 Which fair Imagination's shaping thought 
 Builds on the bosom of the boundless naught ; 
 Changing forever yet forever bright 
 With poetry and beauty and delight. 
 
 " O splendor of the sun and grace of night ; 
 
 O noise of ocean ; and the haunted Hght 
 
 Of caverns deep where faint forms come and go ; 
 
 O glow of waterfalls ; and the tender show 
 
 Of rainbows arching o'er the tumbling flood ; 
 
 O dancing leaves and shadows of the wood ; 
 
 O mountains trembling into blue serene ; 
 
 O flowery meadows' interlacing green ; 
 
 O brooks that laugh and glitter to the sea ; 
 
 O mighty rivers moving silently ; 
 
 O flame of morn and golden breath of eve ; 
 
 O summer winds whose rustling garments leave 
 
 89 
 
90 PROMETHEUS, 
 
 A music in the soul that never dies ; 
 
 O gentle showers that flash o'er changing skies ; 
 
 O thunders rolling in far echoes mild ; 
 
 O storm and calm in beauty reconciled ; 
 
 O fire of eyes that kindle with love's hope ; 
 
 O flush of cheeks where burning kisses drop ; 
 
 O rose of lips whose pressure is divine ; 
 
 O voice whose murmur is like sparkling wine ; 
 
 O joy, O glory of this world so fair 
 
 That ever blooming pomps and pomps declare ; 
 
 Breathe in my song and burn in heart and brain ; 
 
 In these we revel and o'er all we reign ; 
 
 Beautiful pictures thronging endless space ; 
 
 That still the beautiful alone displace ; 
 
 What more can we desire, what higher light 
 
 Than that which crowns this vast perfection bright 
 
 Of forms and colors from the star to grain 
 
 Unfolding and unfolding yet again ? 
 
 O think not,, think not of what yet may be 
 
 In the dim changes of eternity ; 
 
 O think not, think not of stern duty's call 
 
 From out the blank unknowable ; 
 
 Obey the sweetness of the things around ; 
 
 Enjoy the noblest in thy sense's bound ; 
 
 Love, light, joy, beauty that w^e see and know 
 
 In eyes that bless us, in sweet friendship's flow, 
 
 Companionship of mind, preemnnence. 
 
 Glory and strength and god-like excellence, 
 
 Thrones, purple, gold and crowns and sceptres bright 
 
 Far blazing empire and supreme delight." 
 
APOLLO. 
 
 The shining glory of the god passed by 
 
 With lingering flame ; and the glad melody 
 
 Still sounded on and glowing fancies twined 
 
 Within the cha,mbers of Prometheus' mind, 
 
 And lulled him to a soft and sweet repose ; 
 
 And soothed him with unnumbered brilliant shows ; 
 
 And hung a pictured curtain of delight 
 
 Between his senses and the infinite ; 
 
 So that his thought no longer darkly gloomed, 
 
 But myriad pleasures in fresh glory bloomed ; 
 
 And all the universe was one rich glow 
 
 Of tender beauty. 
 
 And Asia woke to know 
 He stood resplendent by her trembling frame, 
 His eyes full beaming with love's eager flame ; 
 And with a voice all freighted with delight 
 He called her forth into the sparkling night. 
 
 " O come beneath the stars beside the sea 
 And look upon the world's bright mystery, 
 Flashing in million waves that come and go, 
 In circling beach ; in forest's solemn glow, 
 And hills and valleys jewelled by the smile 
 Of chaste Diana, whom no clouds defile 
 But roll in white effulgence at her feet 
 And make the beauty of the night complete ; 
 Come with me darling with thy lighted eyes 
 Outshining all the glories of the skies, 
 
 91 
 
Q2 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 With deeper meanings and diviner fire ; 
 And answering to my soul its keen desire ; 
 Thy love is all the universe to me ; 
 I clasp thee with supremest ecstacy." 
 
THE THEFT 
 
PROMETHEUS 
 
 BOOK SEVENTH. 
 
 THE THEFT. 
 
 VAST mountains rolling like a dream away ; 
 Glittering afar with many an icy spray, 
 Sublime beneath the stars and full-orbed moon, 
 Washed by sweet splendors from its midnight throne ; 
 A thousand heights blazing with tender sheen ; 
 Flashing in gloom and glory, soft, serene, 
 Severe and terrible, gigantic piled. 
 Mid whose strange horrors still some beauty smiled ; 
 Alone, his soul to awful passion wrought 
 Of heights and depths, broods, strives the gc<i of thought 
 Mid the calm silence of that mighty world ; 
 Where once in thunder the huge billows whirled, 
 And flung their lurid crowns to meet the sky. 
 Then paused for aye in cold serenity ; 
 And as they stand in pitiless array, 
 
96 
 
 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 They seem to symbolize with solemn ray 
 
 The doom of him, who with heroic deed, 
 
 Shall dare the fortunes of vile man to speed. 
 
 Alone, alone, with not one warm sweet face 
 
 To bid him onward, or to give him grace 
 
 Or hope, or beauty, or dehght, or power ; 
 
 Rebuke and hate will fill each frowning hour ; 
 
 He knows what may be both of good and ill ; 
 
 From strength to weakness sweeps his wavering will ; 
 
 Now flows a moment of supreme calm choice, 
 
 When midst eternity his thoughts rejoice ; 
 
 Then passion shakes him to the lower world ; 
 
 Where limited and faint his soul is hurled 
 
 Upon the banks and shallows of weird time. 
 
 Where best and noblest seem a useless crime ; 
 
 And so his generous spirit toils in woe, 
 
 The very duty of the hour to know ; 
 
 To find a motive power sublimer far 
 
 Than Jove's huge throne, or love's entrancing bar. 
 
 " Why should I do this act for struggling man ? 
 There's no applause for it but only ban ; 
 Of all the thousand gods that hate Jove's sway, 
 There is not one a kindling word would say ; 
 Apollo's gorgeous hght would mock my woe ; 
 And Venus' beauty not one smile bestow ; 
 They all would wonder at my foolish deed ; — 
 " The thing will right itself ; " is still their creed. 
 " What is the use of thy aggressive will ? 
 Why in vain effort thy best action spill ? 
 
THE THEFT. 
 
 Why strive against enormous fixed wrong 
 That spite of all thy strength the Fates prolong ? 
 And only they themselves will hurl to dust ; 
 'Tis universal Law moves slow but just, 
 And will accomplish the bright end we seek ; 
 We can do nothing, we are blind and weak ; 
 Our choice is but a wave that bursts in vain ; 
 Fate sweeps the under-current of the main ; — 
 Then let us reign in bliss and take the tide. 
 And trust to fortune in the ages wide ; 
 We may survive the shattered power of Jove, 
 And drink the beauty of the realms of love, 
 On the bright stream of tendencies sublime, 
 That vaster far than we will punish crime ; 
 We cannot do it ; we are gods but slaves ; 
 Jove but the topmost of our beaming waves. 
 And for a moment wears the lordly crest. 
 And by a breath of chance commands the rest ; 
 While we must follow in the sunny way ; 
 But may be leaders when the next winds play ; 
 But our own choice cannot one inch avail ; 
 We are but creatures and we cannot rail 
 Against the powers that be, we must submit ; 
 For pleasure, not for progress use our wit ; 
 And be as happy as we can each day ; 
 And hope for better things ; yet ne'er display 
 In act or word our deep dissent and hate 
 Against the things that are by giant Fate ; 
 And still must be, until that Primal Force 
 Beyond our arm shall change the mighty course ; 
 
 97 
 
98 
 
 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 And if for good or bad our will is naught, 
 
 We've no creative energy ; our thought 
 
 Is but the flowing of an endless light 
 
 That gleams and sinks, but cannot stop its flight 
 
 And gather into power and purpose grand, 
 
 To shape the destinies and fate command ; 
 
 Free will is but a fitful wavering glow 
 
 From the great wheels that ever onward go 
 
 And grind the universe to dust ; or frame 
 
 The splendid worlds that in vast order flame ; 
 
 Hence it is foolish to lift weak vain hands 
 
 Against the force preeminent that stands 
 
 Crowned with the sunshine of to-day's full might ; 
 
 By Nature's order it must sink to night ; 
 
 And we must make the best of life we can ; 
 
 Wise, secret, vigilant, serenely scan 
 
 The face of Heaven and catch the signs of change. 
 
 And for the new age prudently arrange ; 
 
 We must not be too slow, nor yet too fast ; 
 
 Be sure the future's right then quit the past ; 
 
 We must not leave the Old until the New 
 
 Is profitable and safe as well as true." 
 
 Such is the wisdom of my bright compeers ; 
 
 And is it best to judge by joys and fears 
 
 Alone, and think not of the simple Right 
 
 Because it plunges into dreadful night 
 
 And strips us of our glorious realm and power ? 
 
 Must we obey the tyrant of the hour. 
 
 And bend in gorgeous slavery to the dust ? 
 
THE THEFT. 
 
 Shall truth and beauty in mere pleasure rust ? 
 
 Be but a clog, instead of vision bright, 
 
 To urge us on into expanding light, 
 
 While darkness, terror vanish in sweet guise 
 
 Before the splendor of our kindled eyes ? 
 
 O must we yield supinely to the hand 
 
 That for the moment wields the regnant brand, 
 
 And take the throne, the gold, the pomp, the play, 
 
 But keep our genius hedged in narrow sway. 
 
 Never to be our noblest, bravest, best, 
 
 In bright preeminence and fire expressed ? 
 
 O is this but a dream ? must we be dull 
 
 And cold, and common-place, with maxims full, 
 
 That teach us meek submission, graceful death, 
 
 Of what's divinest in our being's breath ? 
 
 Must we our very heavenlihood defraud ; 
 
 Is it one's fate to be but half a god ? 
 
 And so a worm, for half is nothingness ; 
 
 We must be all, and to our highest press. 
 
 Or else we sink to hollow pompous shame. 
 
 To ghastly barrenness our being tame. 
 
 Ah, me, which way ? to death or life supreme ? 
 
 To throned glistening tomb ? or woeful stream 
 
 Of righteous effort towards the good and true, 
 
 And what may be of beautiful and new ? 
 
 Where if I fail, I fail in triumph grand ; 
 
 Where if I sink, I stretch the helping hand 
 
 And usher in the glowing pomps of day, 
 
 And in my weakness e'en the strong fates sway. 
 
 But ah ! I wonder not the radiant gods 
 
 99 
 
100 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 In their sweet kingdoms dare not meet the odds, 
 
 The crushing thunders of Jove's mighty hand ; 
 
 Not one against their awful fire could stand ; 
 
 I know the misery that must be my fate ; 
 
 The long, long ages' ever horrent weight, 
 
 With not a hope that I shall see the light, 
 
 In some far future when Jove sinks to night ; 
 
 For who can tell but he may wield the rod 
 
 Through cycles endless, and be always God ; 
 
 And so the tortures of my doomed soul 
 
 Grow still more bitter as the ages roll ; 
 
 Darkness forever round and vultures grim, 
 
 And clanging monsters, and strange phantoms dim 
 
 That with a keen suggestion pierce the mind, 
 
 And make it dream of mightier woes behind ; 
 
 Can I endure all this with clear bright faith. 
 
 And deeply trust through darkening storms of death 
 
 That sometime Jove may fall, and I may rise 
 
 In fairer issues of eternities ? 
 
 That I shall see the sweet reward of all 
 
 In the rejoicing universe, the fall 
 
 Of every wrong, the diadem of Right 
 
 Blazing forever in thick- jewelled light ? 
 
 Will this be so ? What thought has pierced so deep 
 
 Through all the million eons' darkling sweep, 
 
 To know that what we call the right, the true. 
 
 Will triumph 'neath a heaven of smiling blue ? 
 
 Who knows but wrong is absolute as right ? 
 
 Because relentless crowned with surer might : 
 
 Jove may be hurled into the wild abyss ; 
 
THE THEFT. jqj 
 
 Will his successor rule in righteousness ? 
 
 He may be still more cruel and unkind, 
 
 And flame with fiercer thunders, darker mind, 
 
 And in the triumph of his hideous joy, 
 
 All good and true and beautiful destroy ; 
 
 Not e'en to others give a kindred throne, 
 
 But reign in fearful majesty alone. 
 
 And put the universe beneath his feet. 
 
 And make all bow and shudder round his seat ; 
 
 Who knows that Right and Might will e'er be one ? 
 
 That wrong will vanish 'neath the kindling sun ; 
 
 That all our golden dreams will be fulfilled. 
 
 The perfect glory come ? that fate sweet-willed 
 
 Shall with unfading beauty disenthrall ; 
 
 And happy hearts or genial Gods shall call ; 
 
 Who knows that this dear vision of the soul 
 
 With bright reality will crown the whole ? 
 
 The sweet ideal that we fling afar, 
 
 Making its home in every beaming star, 
 
 May be but glowing of the eager will ; 
 
 Within, and not without it sparkles still ; 
 
 There is no certainty that in the all 
 
 It will be brilliant and imperial : 
 
 I have no hope then ; Jove may use his power, 
 
 And everlasting torture be my dower ; 
 
 Ages on ages of enormous woe, 
 
 Is it not foolish then to tempt the blow ? 
 
 And will man profit by the deed when done, 
 Will he be wiser in the new light won ? 
 
1 02 PROME THE US. 
 
 Will he go onward to sublimer powers, 
 And gird his way with golden happy hours ? 
 Will he be better for the mighty fire ? 
 Or will he use it for some low desire ? 
 Simply to feed his sensual nature high, 
 And for mere pleasure will he mount the sky, 
 And rule in jubilance of base appetite ? 
 Not for the glory of eternal right ? 
 Will he use freedom to win Virtue's crest, 
 And seek to do his noblest, sweetest, best, 
 And strive to fill the universe with joy, 
 And be indeed a god without alloy — 
 To live in sacrifice, that all his might 
 May flow in fountains of benignant light ? 
 Or will he too be cruel and unkind. 
 And use his godlike gift to crush and bind. 
 And build his empire upon hideous wrong. 
 And still the evil and the woe prolong ? 
 O will this deed flow into fruitful bliss ? 
 Will man indeed be crowned with lovingness, 
 And truth and beauty if I suffer all ? 
 Or will this action end in darker thrall ? 
 Man seeking fiercely sole preeminence 
 And outward pomp, not inward excellence ? 
 
 could I see that he would use this gift 
 His own and other's spirit to uplift, 
 
 To higher good, and true, and beautiful, 
 Bending to weakness with a holy call, 
 That all together might win sweeter grace ; 
 
 1 would not hesitate a moment's space ; 
 
THE THEFT, 
 
 But ah ! man may be worse than Jove himself ; 
 
 Strong only for his own vile power and pelf ; — 
 
 Ungrateful too, instead of endless praise 
 
 For this bold deed that gives him happy days, 
 
 And all the promise of his ampler mind ; 
 
 He may forget me in the dark confined ; 
 
 He may despise me for my sacrifice ; 
 
 Call me a fool e'en in my agonies ; 
 
 And pour contempt upon my very name, 
 
 And strive to tarnish with strange guilt my fame ; 
 
 And even if he had the power, would not 
 
 Release me from my awful suffering lot. 
 
 But leave me to the vulture and the storm, 
 
 Or fling still deadlier terrors on my form, 
 
 And seek to crush me with relentless hate, 
 
 E'en when high Jove his thunders might abate ; 
 
 I cannot trust in man, for though divine 
 
 He may be selfish, and with horrent sin 
 
 Dark curse the universe, and sink to death 
 
 Stripped of the glory of his heavenly breath ; 
 
 Where is the motive then for this great deed ? 
 
 There is no certainty of gracious meed ; 
 
 The chances are that man will be like Jove, 
 
 And there's no victory for tender love ; 
 
 Only a fresher despot takes the throne ; 
 
 And the harsh sway of wrong still thunders on, 
 
 And weakness finds in power no saving Hght ; 
 
 I cannot see then that I help the Right ; 
 
 Then why perform an act whose consequence 
 
 May be dark wrong or utter impotence ? 
 
 [03 
 
104 
 
 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 Man may not have the courage e'en to take 
 The fire I give him, and try to shake 
 The rude oppressor of his heart and home ; 
 Perhaps he is the victim of his doom ; 
 And now it is too late to turn the scale ; 
 His spirit is so crushed that he may fail 
 To seize the sceptre with unflinching hand, 
 His nerveless arm still prostrate in the sand ; 
 And so I suffer through eternity, 
 For act that ends in its own ecstacy. 
 
 And O that other life that's dearer far, 
 
 My beauteous Asia ! how can I unbar 
 
 These dreadful thunders on her gentle breast, 
 
 So pure, so innocent, in Love's sweet zest, 
 
 So trusting all her fate to my strong will ; 
 
 So linked to me through fortune's good and ill ; 
 
 Not only must I drag her deep along 
 
 Through all the horrors that my pathway throng, 
 
 But I must violate her sense of Right ; 
 
 She'll cling to me but cling with shrinking sight ; 
 
 Still think me criminal, a wretched thief, 
 
 A traitor to my comrades and my Chief ; 
 
 And so her pangs will be more sharp than mine ; 
 
 Not one sweet beam upon her way will shine. 
 
 For her own conscience will not give her peace ; 
 
 Wrong, wrong, eternal wrong without surcease, 
 
 Will darken all around her and within ; 
 
 While I, above the form of outward sin. 
 
 Shall see the blessed Truth in joyful sway, 
 
THE THEFT. I05 
 
 Helping to keep the mightiest pangs at bay ; 
 But she will have no beatific sky ; 
 All weakness, darkness, terror, misery, 
 There'll be no hope for her sweet eyes at all ; 
 On every side strange ruin will appal ; 
 So I must make her suffer without light ; 
 And what I might endure of pain is slight 
 To her unrifted doom, that still for aye 
 Will bend and torture o'er her lurid way ; 
 She, innocent, will suffer more than all ; 
 She, weak, on her the fiercest pain will fall ; 
 She, reverent, will feel the keenest dart ; 
 What right have I such horrors to impart ; 
 What duty is there that can override 
 My loyalty to her, my spirit's bride, 
 To whom I've given vows of sweetest heat. 
 That I would make her love and life complete ? 
 If I could leave her in yon halls of bliss 
 To be made happy by another's kiss, 
 I'd take all jealous pangs with joy elate. 
 And do the deed, and bear myself the weight, 
 And pray that of the sunshine of the hour, 
 She might receive her own unclouded dower ; 
 It cannot be ; her soul is in my soul ; 
 And what on me on her will dreadful roll, 
 With thousand times more agony and pain ; 
 Shall her dear weakness call on me in vain ? 
 I'm not alone and cannot act alone ; 
 Must not mine own conviction be overthrown ? 
 We in our mutual life one duty see ? 
 
I06 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 Must not her sense of Right be law to me ? 
 
 What can be greater than each other's bliss ? 
 
 Together we must seek for Blessedness ; 
 
 One conscience flame from interwoven thought ; 
 
 We cannot separate to different lot ; 
 
 My highest to her highest must bend down ; 
 
 One star still guide us ever on and on. 
 
 No motive to this deed, no consequence, 
 
 It seems to be an utter impotence ; 
 
 A flashing light upon the awful dark ; 
 
 Never to kindle the enduring spark ; 
 
 And if I do it, pain, and woe, and wrong 
 
 To all I love ; why then the thought prolong ? 
 
 It will not down, I cannot rest, it gleams 
 
 In its own regnancy with wondrous beams ; 
 
 A righteous deed ' a true heroic act ! 
 
 In its own motion is reward intact ; 
 
 I must not look to any consequence 
 
 Of noble and far reaching excellence ; 
 
 I must not look to any pain to me 
 
 Or others ; for 'tis Eternity 
 
 That calls, and calls me yet again, its light 
 
 Simple and ultimate streams o'er the night 
 
 With more than million glories of the stars ; 
 
 Dearer and closer than Love's sweetest bars ; 
 
 It is the Universal Spirit's ray 
 
 Of Life, of Nature ; 'tis the primal sway 
 
 Of the Eternal God of all in all ; 
 
THE THEFT. 
 
 I must obey it and no lesser thrall ; 
 With misery before, behind, above ; 
 With misery on my dearest, tenderest love ; 
 Not knowing but the act will be all void. 
 And in the whirl of life and fate destroyed ; 
 Yet it is right, I know that it is right ; 
 My whole soul tells me with unclouded light ; 
 My heart, my conscience, all my highest, best, 
 Proclaim my duty spite of horror's crest 
 Or love, or joy, or other's woe or bliss ; 
 It must be done, though utter nothingness 
 Should be the bare result of all its glow ; 
 It is the Right, and I must meet the blow." 
 
 O what a glory leaped along the night, 
 Sudden and swift, and beautiful and bright ; 
 O what a splendor in its thousand eyes ! 
 As if its soul were thrilled with sweet surprise ; 
 As if some joyance from the heart of things 
 Rolled over it with vast illuminings ; 
 The glad uight widened into dawnings far, 
 As if it poured in golden flame each star, 
 To shine submissive on day's happy face, 
 As it advanced with fresh triumphant grace, 
 With light and music for the hearts of men ; 
 With light and music bursting yet again 
 O'er the dim fields and mountains, sea and shore, 
 Bursting and kindling, beaming more and more ; 
 A new strange power was pouring like a flood ; 
 A new strange joy was in man's fiery blood ; 
 
 107 
 
I08 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 Ah ! now he held the secret of his fate ; 
 
 He could progress and conquer spite of hate ; 
 
 He could build empires, kingdoms, gather might 
 
 In sweet societies, be strong and bright 
 
 In opulence of soul and wealth of mind, 
 
 Reaching to larger efforts unconfined ; — 
 
 Behold the Singer with exultant brow ; 
 
 No melancholy din he utters now ; 
 
 But wondrous harmony, he flings his soul 
 
 In eager rhythm, 'neath his swift control 
 
 From the soft strings bold melodies arise ; 
 
 He walks the earth with gladness in his eyes ; 
 
 From rock, tree, cloud and hill, and bending sky, 
 
 He catches music to make sorrow fly ; 
 
 And fills the hearts of men with noble ruth ; 
 
 In mirth and lovliness revealing truth ; — 
 
 The rough hewn marble glows to statues fair ; 
 
 And domes and pillars glitter in the air ; 
 
 With oary wings along the sunny tide. 
 
 Midst clapping waves the flashing vessels glide ; 
 
 The great strong soul of man is all on fire ; 
 
 From Hunger, Damp and Cold he will aspire 
 
 To a far nobler throne than that of Jove ; 
 
 But will he reign in pure delights of love ? 
 
 Or will he turn and rend the lower life, 
 
 And only add to the perpetual strife ? 
 
THE PUNISHMENT 
 
PROMETHEUS 
 
 BOOK EIGHTH. 
 
 THE PUNISHMENT. 
 
 GLOOM-GIRDED mountains circling in bleak air ; 
 Cold, white, intense and piercing glare on glaie 
 Into the heart that aches with pregnant pains 
 Through darkling ages, and no respite gains ; 
 And vultures with incessant claw and beak 
 And dreadful eyes and horrid clang still break. 
 And tear and rend the deathless threads f life, 
 And o'er the quick blood rage with obscene strife ; 
 All pitiless the over-hanging sky ; 
 And pitiless the winds that hurry by ; 
 The flying hours each leave a bitter sting ; 
 And memory shudders o'er long ruining ; 
 And the slow future is unbroken waste 
 By images of endless woe embraced, 
 That throng with awful face and steadfast ire, 
 Crushing the lonely soul's unhopeful fire. 
 
112 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 Blasting the vision with tremendous grief, 
 And threatening curse on curse without relief ; 
 But deeper pangs convulse his wretched frame 
 Whence Asia prone in love's devouring flame, 
 And consecrate to all his hapless dole. 
 Feels thousand horrors in her trembling soul ; 
 Whom by swift sympathy each racking pain 
 Torments and tortures with severer strain ; 
 While midst the tumults of her passion strong 
 There still abides a fearful sense of wrong ; 
 Of unexplainable and awful sin ; 
 Whose blackness haunts her deepest soul within ; 
 She clings, but only clings with all her heart ; 
 Her judgment in the action takes no part ; 
 She clings, for her whole life is in his life ; 
 But thought with deep affection is at strife, 
 A^d cannot praise but must condemn for aye ; 
 And so her eyes still cast reproachful ray. 
 Mingled with infinite vicarious woe ; 
 She suffers all with him, but cannot show 
 The sweet consenting of a kindred mind ; 
 To all his hero's deed still weak and blind. 
 
 Out of his sorrows strange and manifold 
 
 In wailing words his strength and weakness rolled 
 
 " I thank thee, thank thee God, I could not see 
 This hideous, huge, o'er topping misery ; 
 With such a vision burning on my sight 
 I must have turned me from the heavenly Right ; 
 
THE PUNISHMENT. II3 
 
 Mine ignorance was my saviour to this deed ; 
 
 I thought t' endure all woes that might succeed 
 
 With an exultant spirit of fierce joy ; 
 
 But I am crushed, and if I could destroy 
 
 The regnant act I almost think I would ; 
 
 But out of my weak hands hath passed the good ; 
 
 Safe in the bosom of Eternity 
 
 It blooms and blossoms and it cannot die ; 
 
 And I am glad for I do fear my Avoes 
 
 So m.ultiple, enormous blows on blows 
 
 Would leave me dastard, and to Jove's high hand 
 
 I should surrender all my action grand. 
 
 Eternity ! Eternity ! O keep 
 
 My fiery impulse in thy endless sweep ! 
 
 O trust it not again unto my will ! 
 
 For I should fail thee, keep, O keep it still ; 
 
 While I forgotten perish on this mount ; 
 
 Unworthy of the deed I once did count 
 
 So glorious and to which I proudly flashed ; 
 
 But which this hour I'd weakly shrink from, lashed 
 
 Into irresolution by keen pains ; — 
 
 O Asia, Asia hasten from my chains 
 
 And rest thee in the happy light of Jove ; 
 
 Stay with the bright celestial bands above, 
 
 And let me toil alone with all my ill ; 
 
 Away, away, thou art the crowning still 
 
 Of all my agony ; thou makest me doubt ; 
 
 Add'st inward wretchedness to that without ; 
 
 O take thy sweet eyes from these horrors vast ; 
 
 O leave me, leave me to my own lot cast 
 
114 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 To pray for death, for nothingness, release 
 From strokes that through all ages will increase. ' 
 
 The answering wail of Asia swept the wi:id 
 That bore it with an icy breath unkind. 
 
 " I cannot leave thee, all my heart is here ; 
 Elsewhere I'm desolate, in brightest sphere 
 There is a terror, a wild blank despair ; 
 Here is my heaven where darkest faces glare ; 
 O I must cling to thee, although I feel 
 Thy punishment is just beneath Jove's heel ; 
 For I do tremble at thy awful crime 
 Against the radiant gods and thrones sublime ; 
 But I must suffer with thee to the end ; 
 
 sweet Prometheus ! in submission bend ; 
 Perhaps Almighty Jove will loose the chain ; 
 And thou and I be happy once again." 
 
 " O Asia ask me not to bend the knee ; 
 
 1 will not falsely worship to be free ? 
 
 I might not now have strength to do the deed 
 Rent by the torments of its direful meed ;. 
 But having done it, I will not repent ; 
 In silence I'll endure the punishment 
 And if the right I might not nobly choose, 
 Yet still I can the active wrong refuse ; 
 And in my weakness keep my spirit still ; 
 If impotent to right the wrong not will ; 
 I may be weak and helpless but not base. 
 
THE PUNISHMENT. II5 
 
 May fail of honor, but will spurn disgrace." 
 
 From spirit unto struggling spirit tossed 
 
 Strength, weakness, love, despair and wailing crossed 
 
 The awful chasm whirling twixt their souls ; 
 
 So yearning, yet so distant as the poles. 
 
 Then suddenly along the farthest height 
 A rosy glow ; then swift advancing light ; 
 Then music, wonder, splendor, fill the air ; 
 And wide benignant ranks are sparkling there 
 And all the dreary snows shine warm and sweet 
 Like the effulgence of soft summer's heat ; 
 With slow reluctant clang the vultures flee 
 And leave the sufferer in the glad light free ; 
 And Asia starts erect with joyous face 
 To look upon Jove's full attractive grace ; 
 Mild and majestic, beautiful and grand ; 
 With countless spirits waiting his command — 
 With gentle voice yet undertone of sneer, 
 The mighty God addressed the victim near. 
 
 " Behold the fruit Prometheus of thy deed ; 
 Is man the better for his fiery greed 
 And fierce ambition and tumultuous hope ? 
 Is he of Right and Truth the growing prop ? 
 Behold him eager for the bloody fray ; 
 Trampling the weak- to win the victor's bay ; 
 Behold him careless of another's good ; 
 In selfish struggle scorning brotherhood ; 
 
1 1 6 PROME THE US. 
 
 And using his bright gift of heavenly flame 
 To build a throne defrauding other's claim ; 
 What do you see o'er all the earth to-day 
 But rapine, murder, war, the clashing play 
 Of swords wherein alone thy theft outrays 
 In deathly splendor and destroying blaze ? 
 All his new might man uses for rude sway ; 
 And without mercy treads his ampler way ; 
 Thy gift Prometheus was a fatal dower ; 
 A curse to man and not celestial power." 
 
 " I see, O Jove, the strife of man to-day ; 
 
 I see my gift abused, its golden ray 
 
 That might uplift him to such happy rule 
 
 Making the whole earth calm and beautiful 
 
 In wild disharmony is broken now ; 
 
 And beam with beam is clashing all aglow 
 
 With hate and wrath ; but now and then a bright 
 
 Celestial radiance gives a pure delight, 
 
 A deathless promise for the ages dim ; 
 
 And so I hope through all the struggle grim 
 
 That my great gift may prove a heavenly grace, 
 
 Though now its glory seems but to abase. 
 
 Still whether it may bloom in fruitage grand 
 
 Or be a curse I'll not repent my stand ; 
 
 I did what the eternal Right proclaimed ; 
 
 And am not therefore of the deed ashamed ; 
 
 Though to my sight it may in ruin end. 
 
 My conscience ever will the act commend ; 
 
 And not unto thy wisdom mighty Jove ! 
 
THE PUNISHMENT. 
 
 Will I bow down ; but worship that above ; 
 E'en in my weakness and my awful woe 
 I've that within surpasses all thy show ; 
 I have been true to my divinest soul 
 And so I scorn all that thou canst control." 
 
 "I know thy stubborn mind deep thoughted god ! 
 
 I cannot crush thy spirit with my rod ; 
 
 Thou never wilt submit thee to my sway ; 
 
 I will not ask thee therefore to obey ; 
 
 Thou mayst forever glory in thy deed, 
 
 And labor that thy action may succeed ; 
 
 And Asia may be with thee full of light 
 
 To make thy pathway with her beauty bright ; 
 
 One slight condition only do I make 
 
 Thou canst fulfil it and no conscience break ; 
 
 I only ask thy foresight's subtle gift ; 
 
 The heavy clouds of coming time uplift 
 
 That I may see the future's broadening sweep 
 
 And know my fate beyond the present deep ; 
 
 I only ask the treasure of thy thought ; 
 
 I ask no action, worship, these unbought 
 
 Shall be thy own though all the endless years ; 
 
 I ask thy vision for my hopes and fears ; 
 
 O utter thy sincere prophetic mind ; 
 
 Thou shalt no more in darkness be confined." 
 
 Prometheus' soul was wrought with tumults vast 
 Uncertain what to choose. Should he cling fast 
 To his sublime ideal bright within ? 
 
 117 
 
1 1 8 PRO ME THE US. 
 
 Or yield somewhat new life and power to win ? 
 
 Should he preserve the treasure of his thought, 
 
 And let Jove tremble o'er the viewless naught, 
 
 While he himself should suffer keener woes ? 
 
 Or should he of the light within disclose ? 
 
 That Jove might comfort take in knowledge sure 
 
 That his unworthy empire would endure ; 
 
 O to be silent was his soul's best thought ; 
 
 To make no terms with that which evil wrought ; 
 
 Still in the perfectness of his own high aim 
 
 The slightest service from the wrong disclaim ; 
 
 Ah ! if his happiness alone were all 
 
 That could be smitten by Jove's mighty thrall 
 
 Then would he bid defiance to his hand ; 
 
 And his own thought in his own soul command ; 
 
 But ah ! the eyes of Asia burned on him 
 
 With prayers and tears ; could he again make dim 
 
 Their glowing light ? Was he not bound to her 
 
 As to his own high view ? to minister 
 
 Unto her joy as to his fervent aim ? 
 
 He would not yield his conscience to her claim ; 
 
 But should he not somewhat his bright ideal ? 
 
 Accept the less and make it sweetly real, 
 
 A blessed fruit in their united lives ? 
 
 Her eager pleading face such impulse gives 
 
 He yields the barren high to fruitful less ; 
 
 E'en duty bids to do imperfectness. 
 
 " O Jove, triumphant in thy pride and might, 
 I yield me somewhat of the perfect light. 
 
THE PUNISHMENT 
 
 That haunts my soul with beauty most supreme ; 
 
 No tortures force me, nor thy radiant beam, 
 
 Nor all that thou canst give of splendid sway ; 
 
 But loyalty to Asia wins the day ; 
 
 I'm bound to her, and to her life must yield 
 
 Somewhat of thought's far shining ample field ; 
 
 Stern duty bids me to the sacrifce ; 
 
 To bend to earth, nor sweep the boundless skies. 
 
 Ah, it is ever thus ; we cannot throw 
 
 Into fine action all our purest glow ; 
 
 We are hedged in by some dark boundary ; 
 
 And so our highest sinks to lesser high ; 
 
 Somewhat we ever fail to fairly do, 
 
 Of what we see of beautiful and true ; 
 
 Our act is ever lower than our sight ; 
 
 We pierce beyond what we can practice quite ; 
 
 O painful burden of the mighty seer ; 
 
 To glimpse a good that never can appear 
 
 In action manifold, and sweet, and grand ; 
 
 For fruitful service he must take his stand 
 
 Mid lesser lights and visions, on a lower plane 
 
 Consent to work, or all his life be vain. 
 
 O 'tis a sacrifice most bitter deep 
 
 To yield to Action, Thought's far circling sweep ; 
 
 None know the agony of heart and brain 
 
 Of him, who finds his highest vision vain ; 
 
 And that to be a worker he must bend, 
 
 And toil in sorrow, to less noble end. — 
 
 Is Everlasting Being also bound 
 
 To this dark tragedy ? Is it discrowned 
 
 By iron limits, and so cannot flower 
 
 119 
 
I20 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 To bright perfection and supremely dower 
 The Universe with all its light and joy, 
 But there must ever be some faint alloy ? 
 O is the noblest but a flitting dream ? 
 Never to shine in fruitful golden beam ? 
 
 will our subtlest reason ever be 
 Too fine for action ? will eternity 
 
 No ample hour unfold, where thought's far flight 
 In fullest deed shall pour its swift delight ? 
 
 1 cannot tell, for doubt is on my soul ; 
 I see no vision of the perfect v/hole ; 
 
 I only know that I must yield my best ; 
 
 'Tis duty bids me the bright beam divest, 
 
 And work upon a lower plane, and do 
 
 The best I can through fate's dark winding clue ; 
 
 For I am not alone, by other's ties 
 
 I toil, and act, and choose, and sacrifice ; 
 
 Come Asia, we will meet in fruitful deed ; 
 
 In mutual surrender find sweet meed ; 
 
 And triumph still in spite of fate's dark chain ; 
 
 And Jove ! I'll answer, not from heart, but brain 
 
 I will not help thee in thy fearful sway ; 
 
 I'll only flash on thee the doubtful ray. 
 
 That in my thought reveals the future's course ; 
 
 Some things I know ; but the eternal force 
 
 In all its mighty play, and issues far 
 
 To the remotest bounds of forming star, 
 
 I cannot see ; but from the ages' flow 
 
 I'll give thee partial glimpses, all I know ; 
 
 Somewhat I pierce into the endless years ; 
 
 Ask, I will picture what to me appears." 
 
THE PROPHECY 
 
PROMETHEUS 
 
 BOOK NINTH. 
 
 THE PROPHECY. 
 
 WITH haughty pride Jove beamed in triumph now 
 To wrest the secret of the ages' flow ; 
 To know for good or ill his empire's scope ; 
 To find what fate might give of fear or hope ; 
 With painful voice Prometheus poured his thought 
 Revealing years on years with curses fraught. 
 
 " O Jove if with unselfish heart and mind 
 Thou would'st assist and benefit mankind 
 And let thy empire go in friendly deed 
 Man's noblest energies to help and speed 
 His toiling way would open wide and pure, 
 And his divinest promise be made sure ; 
 And far more beautiful than what we show 
 Would be the blessings of his triumph's glow ; 
 
124 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 But thou resolv'st to rule and not to give ; 
 
 In thine own grasping eminence to live ; 
 
 And so thou mean'st to crush the heart of man ; 
 
 Spite of the fire I gave him still to ban ; 
 
 And e'en to make that fire a greater curse, 
 
 To kindle only fury and make worse ; 
 
 Alas ! thou shalt succeed, man against man 
 
 Shall thunder, in the battle's surging van 
 
 Shall glow the lightnings that he caught from heaven, 
 
 Burning and blasting, and with rude bolts driven ; 
 
 While bleeding thousands in sharp agony 
 
 Shall perish with the regnant brow and eye ; 
 
 Their new hope ending in the bitter fray ; 
 
 Crushing each other with the kindling ray ; 
 
 Man shall aspire but with unkindly aim ; 
 
 He shall be great but with destructive flame ; 
 
 He shall subdue the earth, but he shall kill ; 
 
 The life blood of his neighbor he shall spill ; 
 
 The strong shall triumph and the weak shall moan ; 
 
 Millions be wretched and one win a throne 
 
 And be supreme ; yet still his crown shall burn 
 
 And all his glory to dark treason turn ; 
 
 He that with holy labor tills the land 
 
 Shall find no guerdon for his busy hand ; 
 
 The golden harvest shall for others wave ; 
 
 Hard masters shall still grind him to the grave ; 
 
 His but a pittance and the wealth he yields 
 
 Shall give the .oppressor's arm still stronger shields ; 
 
 Gold jewels shall be dug from out the mine 
 
 But only on the brow of monarchs shine ; 
 
THE PROPHECY. 
 
 125 
 
 While he whose energy the treasure found 
 Shall starve and shiver on the barren ground ; 
 Man shall be eager for the vast, the new 
 And daring sweep o'er ocean's sparkling blue 
 To find afar the Islands of the Blest ; 
 Yet as a spoiler come, not happy guest ; 
 To make more wide his devastating sway ; 
 To gather riches and on fair lands prey 
 That he may roll in wealth and wield the rod 
 Of ruthless empire like a petty god ; 
 Ay, he shall build the palace and the dome 
 To be of lust and crime the gilded home ; 
 The fire may shine upon his lordly brow ; 
 But in his heart shall burn remorse and woe ; 
 Amid a thousand glories he may reign, 
 Yet not one kindly excellence attain ; 
 But hke a wild beast rage with bloody fangs, 
 Strong only to inflict the deathly pangs ;— 
 Ay, one may sing and pour sweet music out 
 In fiery numbers like Apollo's lute. 
 Unfolding all the grace of earth and sky ; 
 Lifting the soul to visions sweet and high ; 
 Making of common things a beauteous joy ; 
 Yet he shall be a beggar, or employ 
 His gift divine to flatter sceptred wrong ; 
 Or if he pour the deathless truthful song 
 Out of his heart and brain with wondrous power 
 And with his burning faith the ages dower ; 
 Still petty minds shall shape to maxims dull 
 What in his soul was fresh and beautiful • 
 
1 26 PROME THE US. 
 
 Make him a formal pattern cold and hard ; 
 And only in the letter seek the bard 
 Unconscious of the measureless intense 
 Of life that surges to the inward sense ; 
 And so the poet in his own sweet verse 
 Shall for his genius find a gorgeous hearse ; — 
 Or one shall live a noble life of love, 
 Of pure devotion, bending from above 
 To help the low, the base, the sinful, vile. 
 With cordial grasp of hand and friendly smile ; 
 Yet e'en that life shall stiffen to a creed ; 
 An instrument to forward priestly greed ; 
 To crush the heart and kill the fresher truth ; 
 Ah ; he shall die a martyr sweet and ruth 
 Blessing the hand that strikes the cruel blow ; 
 Still his far memory shall fiercely glow 
 To kindle hatred, desolating wars ; 
 And circle lofty souls with prison bars ; 
 And he who thought in liberty's deHght 
 Star-crowned shall be to others heavy blight ; 
 His spirit all forgotten, but his word 
 A brutal master wielding fire and sword, 
 Compelling e'en the very heart within ; 
 And making slightest freedom deadly sin ; — 
 And man shall dream of Hfe beyond the grave ; 
 But e'en that dream shall not from tyrants save ; 
 For they shall make that future their domain ; 
 And through its terrors still more darkly reign 
 And bend the multitude to deeper thrall ; 
 Making themselves the awful judge of all : 
 
THE PROPHECY. 
 
 So e'en eternity is made a curse ; 
 
 And the immortal thought abases worse ; — 
 
 Man shall express his passionate desire 
 
 In pictures, statues, window's fretted fire ; 
 
 In solemn sweetness of Cathedral roof, 
 
 In altar- flames that leap and glow aloof, 
 
 In music's tender ravishing delight 
 
 Seizing the soul with strange deific might 
 
 And flashing through the quick ecstatic ear 
 
 A thousand imageries ; these shall make fear 
 
 More awful, terrible, and hedge the soul 
 
 To narrow rigid views, to stern control 
 
 Of man-made visions of the truth and right ; 
 
 To partial, shallow customary light ; 
 
 So that the Primal Light of all in all 
 
 By indirections intricate shall fall 
 
 Upon the human heart and hope and life ; 
 
 Distorted often into baleful strife ; 
 
 And hardly one courageous piercing soul 
 
 Shall dare to seek direct the central goal. 
 
 And from the very fount of life and light 
 
 Drink in the day-dawn to his spirit's night ; 
 
 Or if he shall, will find the dungeon's gloom, 
 
 The martyr's stake, the malefactor's doom — 
 
 And e'en when Liberty is greatly gained 
 
 And millions rule, still is the Right disdained ; 
 
 Millions shall do the despot's hateful crime ; 
 
 And call the action virtue's deed sublime. 
 
 Because not one, but thousands reap the good ; 
 
 For tyrant king, reigns tyrant multitude ; 
 
 127 
 
1 28 PROAIE THE US. 
 
 As reckless of the sanctity of each ; 
 
 A stronger monster and more out of reach ; 
 
 While he whose private action is unstained ; 
 
 With beauty, justice, tenderness maintained ; 
 
 Will in the state approve a damning deed, 
 
 And help perpetuate a crime decreed ; 
 
 Ay, what he loathes will pray for as divine. 
 
 Because established by due law and line ; — 
 
 And woman with her beauty's tender joy 
 
 A blessed urgence to man's slow alloy ; 
 
 E'en she shall feel the torture of the chain ; 
 
 Flashing with jewelled pomps, yet shameful bane. 
 
 And keeping her to pleasure's fretful sway ; 
 
 She ruling only with submissive ray ; 
 
 And slave by force shall make one slave by art ; 
 
 But art corrupting to her nobler part ; 
 
 By craft degrading wield her glittering power ; 
 
 And only triumph while in gaudy flower ; 
 
 Thus man and woman with unblending aim 
 
 Shall only recognize the lower claim, 
 
 And meet for revel, not for duty's zest 
 
 And toil and struggle and the eternal quest 
 
 For higher, finer, nobler, brighter ways ; 
 
 They shall go stumbling on with separate gaze ; 
 
 And with discordant work reap bitter fruit ; 
 
 Each by the other made irresolute ; 
 
 While knowledge shall become a blasting fire ; 
 
 And men shall scorn the feelings that aspire ; 
 
 Condemn as weakness every longing high ; 
 
 Flout at the visions of eternity ; 
 
THE PROPHECY. 
 
 Make reason valid only for the earth ; 
 
 In realms of sense alone seek truth and worth ; 
 
 Within the visible have skillful play 
 
 But deeply blind to the celestial ray ; 
 
 And nature's outside only keenly scan, 
 
 Unravel patient its mechanic plan, 
 
 But shut to its supernal spirit sweet 
 
 Whose viewless light makes star and grain complete ; 
 
 So man shall roll in discord wild and strange ; 
 
 This way and that conflicting beams shall range 
 
 Upon his troubled, anxious, weary mind ; 
 
 Checked, limited and hedged, and tossed, and blind. 
 
 Some happy vision now will haunt his way ; 
 
 Then some new insight bring the old dismay ; 
 
 Doubt and despair will ever clip the wing 
 
 Of Faith and Hope ; to courage terror cling ; 
 
 Swift will advance ; and then will shrink in fear ; 
 
 In ignorance bold ; in wisdom void of cheer ; 
 
 This way the heart, and that the brain, elects ; 
 
 And the weak will no harmony effects ; 
 
 And so the fiery impulse that I gave 
 
 Seems but to hurry to an ampler grave ; 
 
 Where all his promise shall be buried deep ; 
 
 With nothing left to shine through ages' sweep , 
 
 AVhile thou O Jove wilt still enthroned be 
 
 Triumphant in man's incapacity, 
 
 Who has the power to be thy greater far, 
 
 But fails to find the key that shall unbar 
 
 To empire and delight and harmony ; 
 
 Mighty in all except felicity." 
 
 I2g 
 
, 1 20 PRO ME THE US. 
 
 Prometheus ceased with countenance aghast ; 
 
 With trembhng frame ; heart smote by sorrows vast ; 
 
 Soul in despair to think Eternal Right, 
 
 And what he did for good in conscience' light, 
 
 Should be so fruitless in man's wide career, 
 
 Ending in nothing. To Asia with faint cheer 
 
 He turned, and took her hand with gentle voice. 
 
 " Fair Asia, we can still somewhat rejoice ; 
 
 For in our own souls we'll be just and true, 
 
 And honor, virtue, duty, right pursue 
 
 With conscience' ray full regnant in our breast ; 
 
 E'en without hope we still can do the best ; 
 
 Still keep the light most pure and bright within ; 
 
 Still help, still work, still love, though wrong may win ; 
 
 Let Jove in victory reign o'er struggling man ; 
 
 We'll give some noble hope where'er we can ; 
 
 Uplift some martyr-soul with splendid beam ; 
 
 Give heroes fame o'er time's far wandering stream ; 
 
 Breathe into humble lives our higher joy ; 
 
 In fruitful labors kind our hands employ ; 
 
 For if we cannot reach the shining best, 
 
 Forever disappointed of our quest ; 
 
 Still we can realize 2.pai'tial good ; 
 
 Urge towards the beautiful and make less rude ; 
 
 Ay, we can struggle, though we cannot gain j 
 
 Keep back the wrong, if not the right attain ; 
 
 Ay, we can make the world a happier place 
 
 Than it would be without our actions grace ; 
 
 Some light, some truth, we can reveal and know ; 
 
THE PROPHECY, 131 
 
 If not the perfect, still the better show ; 
 The fates may darkening roll to bitter end ; 
 The Hght within shall still our footsteps bend." 
 
 Hand within hand they turned from Jove's bright blaze, 
 
 Who with far glittering hope and joy outrays. 
 
 To see his empire o'er the ages spread 
 
 In gathering pomp, while man's swift hope is fled ; 
 
 His soul exultant leaps in rapid plea, 
 
 " Tell me Prometheus in thine ecstacy 
 Thy vision of Eternity sublime ; 
 Unfold th.Q farthest of the waves of time ; 
 Shall I not always victor be and King ? 
 And rule the world with endless triumphing ? 
 O answer this and make my joy supreme ; 
 Tell all thou seest on Fate's ample stream.' 
 
THE VISION 
 
PROMETHEUS 
 
 BOOK TENTH. 
 
 THE VISION. 
 
 JOVE'S pregnant question was the lightning word, 
 That in Prometheus' soul swift rapture stirred, 
 With breaking o'er his spirit in fresh light 
 Of clear reveaHng from the Infinite ; 
 For Jove's voice pierced to deepest of his mind ; 
 With mystic thunder rolled where he was blind. 
 And opened into Being Ultimate ; 
 And what he never yet had known of Fate, 
 Of God, of Life, of Ages' ebb and flow, 
 Of Nature's Heart, swept in with awful glow, 
 And majesty and splendor. On his face 
 The kindling glory leaped from inward grace : 
 And from his eyes swift expectation burned ; 
 With keen effulgence upon Jove he turned. 
 And poured the passion bursting in his heart, 
 
1 36 PRO ME THE US. 
 
 The vision of his mind, the fiery dart 
 
 Of truth eterne, from deepest life of Hfe, 
 
 And soul of soul, piercing the roaring strife 
 
 With rays benignant ; Asia brilliant stood, 
 
 Her brow aflame with coming womanhood, 
 
 And the sweet promise of the time to be ; 
 
 She seeing something of the victory, 
 
 The glow, the grandeur of Prometheus' mind ; 
 
 No more by customary faith confined. 
 
 But breaking the dark chain of ancient creed, 
 
 And thrilling unto new and nobler deed ; 
 
 Jove shrank before the pure evangel bright. 
 
 And all his host seemed drooping into night 
 
 Wan shining as the lustrous language rolled, 
 
 And the brave Prophet his large insight told 
 
 With quick triumphant mien and flashing front, 
 
 O'erwhelming, crushing Jove's imperious brunt 
 
 With gleams and beams and bursts of living light, 
 
 Immediate from the very throne of Right. 
 
 " Thou always rule on Time's far swelling stream ! 
 Thou always in thy cruel empire beam ! 
 Ah no, I see with new annointed eyes 
 Thee and all evil vanish 'neath the skies ; 
 I see man reaching his clear perfect place 
 Noble and beautiful, with onward face 
 And upward look, and kindly helping hand, 
 And soul possessed by truth and virtue grand : 
 God in his heart and glittering in his mind ; 
 With failh, love, reason, worship, hope, combined 
 
THE VISION, 
 
 In harmony delightful and sublime, 
 
 And making lovely all the march of time ; 
 
 No fear upon his way ; the dooms immense, 
 
 Eternal shining in soft eminence ; 
 
 With gentle face of Father bending o'er ; 
 
 With gentle smile of Mother flinging store 
 
 From farthest star, from every happy grain 
 
 That cannot die, but blesses still again 
 
 In thousand forms of beauty and delight 
 
 Forever thrilling with deific might : 
 
 Yet not in indolence shall man advance, 
 
 But by his own endeavor, power and glance ; 
 
 By character, by labor's changeful zest. 
 
 By all his being struggHng for the best ; 
 
 And he shall work in sacrifice and love ; 
 
 Like serpent wise, but harmless as the dove ; 
 
 Seeking with skillful hands for all things good ; 
 
 Yet not for self, but for the multitude ; 
 
 So shall the rich reward o'erbloom the whole, 
 
 And every home be jewelled bountiful ; — 
 
 While each one shall be free in wise control ; 
 
 The voice of all shall in one mandate roll, 
 
 Of noble government and serene desire ; 
 
 Not War but Peace shall wave its bannered fire, 
 
 And sweep in glittering triumph and display 
 
 With harvest music, fruitful pennons gay. 
 
 With pomp and plenty through rejoicing lands, 
 
 And garlanded and trooping happy bands ; 
 
 There shall be glowing unity of soul ; 
 
 And creeds no more shall clash in bitter dole ; 
 
 137 
 
138 
 
 PROMETHEUS. 
 
 But honest doubt and faith shall mingling flow 
 
 And outray finer truth than either know ; 
 
 Conviction, inspiration, fiery thought 
 
 Shall with a loving sympathy be fraught 
 
 For what is opposite yet not less true ; 
 
 The old shall blend resplendent with the new ; 
 
 The One be witnessed in the manifold ; 
 
 The central light in thousand channels rolled ; 
 
 And each in all and all in each shall find 
 
 The largest, sweetest, noblest, fullest mind ; — 
 
 And woman's shall not be a separate life ; 
 
 With all man's greatness her own soul is rife ; 
 
 Identical in being, power and sway, 
 
 She shall shine on into the perfect day ; 
 
 In mild equality and tender strength ; 
 
 Her slavery's kingdom overthrown at length ; 
 
 And not by beauty flashing on the sense 
 
 Shall she attain degrading eminence ; 
 
 But by her splendid reason, lofty aim, 
 
 Work manifold, and duty's kindling flame 
 
 Still make her love a dower of heavenly bhss ; 
 
 Not merely sparkling pleasure, passion's kiss ; 
 
 But hero's fervor, conscience' beauteous light, 
 
 Impulse sublime and inspiration bright ;— 
 
 Yes, yes, there shall be progress, splendor, joy ; 
 
 Man's hidden life shall outward wrong destroy ; 
 
 The fire I gave him shall not always blast ; 
 
 Kindling to worse it shall make best at last, 
 
 As the Eternal Spirit moves along 
 
 With ceaseless patience ; methods fine and strong 
 
THE VISION. 
 
 Far down, far up, beyond our piercing sight ; 
 
 Beginning, ending in unclouded light ; 
 
 And what we do of good shall yet avail ; 
 
 God's breath is in it sweeping its white sail 
 
 To golden shores of bright fruition vast ; 
 
 And what we do of evil is o'ercast 
 
 And swallowed in the tendencies eterne : 
 
 Strive as thou wilt, O Jove thou shalt return 
 
 To dust, to darkness and oblivion's sweep ; 
 
 Thy mighty empire blazing o'er the deep. 
 
 And flinging out its bannered pomps afar. 
 
 Girded with many a wealth of sparkling star, 
 
 With myriad hosts, and ranks on ranks of gods 
 
 Wielding at thy great word their potent rods 
 
 To keep the dark unmeasured fate away ; 
 
 All these shall vanish in the blinding ray 
 
 Of truth and goodness, from the heart of things, 
 
 That still its pure entrancing glory flings 
 
 Irradiant in the darkest hour of night. 
 
 And ever verging to the morning's light ; 
 
 Strive on, O Tyrant, in thy pride and hate ; 
 
 And press man downward with thy awful weight ; 
 
 Deceive and crush him through the ages' ?io\N ; 
 
 Make his best gift a curse to keep him low ; 
 
 Torture him with all thy thousand, thousand fangs ; 
 
 Kill heart and hope with multiplying pangs ; 
 
 Fill time, eternity, with frowning power ; 
 
 'Till man can scarcely dream of happy hour ; 
 
 But all the Universe shall seem a grave ; 
 
 And he himself a bubble on the wave. 
 
 139 
 
1 40 • PRO ME THE US. 
 
 The sport of Fate ; yet thou shalt fail great Jove ; fy 
 
 The Universal God shall sweep above, 
 
 Below, around thee, with His gracious might, 
 
 And man shall revel in His Spirit bright ; 
 
 The martyr's bay shall glisten o'er thy throne ; 
 
 The fire of fagot leap to golden crown ; 
 
 The dungeon's gloom shall break to starry light, 
 
 And bend o'er time with orbs eternal bright ; 
 
 The Hero, Saint, sweet Love, sweet Mercy dear, 
 
 Sweet Justice shall outshine in blessings clear ; 
 
 And man shall feel the breath of God within, 
 
 His immanent abiding grace divine ; 
 
 He shall behold the promise in the skies ; 
 
 And he shall walk with glory lighted eyes ; 
 
 Thou, thou, shalt vanish on the ages' stream ; 
 
 But man shall triumph with far ruling beam ; 
 
 Not by thy selfish plan and brutal will. 
 
 Crushing and killing thine own self to fill ; 
 
 But, by surrender to all other's good ; 
 
 By consecration^ Love's Beatitude."