Now shall the blazon of the Cross be veiled, Kill! crush! despoil! Let not a Greek escape! SEMICHORUS I. Darkness has dawned in the east On the noon of time: The death-birds descend to their feast Let Freedom and Peace flee far To a sunnier strand, And follow Love's folding-star To the evening land. SEMICHORUS II. The young moon has fed With the sunset's fire; The weak day is dead, But the night is not born; And, like loveliness panting with wild desire Hesperus flies from awakening night, And pants in its beauty and speed with light Thou beacon of love! thou lamp of the free! To climes where now veiled by the ardour of day, From waves on which weary noon Between kingless continents sinless as Eden, SEMICHORUS I. Through the sunset of hope, What paradise islands of glory gleam! Their shadows more clear float by The sound of their oceans, the light of their sky The music and fragrance their solitudes breathe, Burst like morning on dream, or like heaven on death, Through the walls of our prison; And Greece, which was dead, is arisen! CHORUS. The world's great age begins anew, The golden years return, The earth doth like a snake renew Her winter weeds outworn: Heaven smiles, and faiths and empires gleam Like wrecks of a dissolving dream. A brighter Hellas rears its mountains A new Peneus rolls his fountains Where fairer Tempes bloom, there sleep A loftier Argo cleaves the main, And loves, and weeps, and dies; Oh! write no more the Tale of Troy, Another Athens shall arise, And to remoter time Bequeath, like sunset to the skies, And leave, if naught so bright may live, Saturn and Love their long repose Shall burst more bright and good* Not gold, not blood, their altar dowers, Oh cease! must hate and death return? The world is weary of the past, Oh might it die or rest at last! * From Mrs. Shelley's edition; there was a hiatus in the first edition. 1824. THE WITCH OF ATLAS. I. BEFORE those cruel Twins, whom at one birth The pains of putting into learned rhyme, II. Her mother was one of the Atlantides: The all-beholding Sun had ne'er beholden In his wide voyage o'er continents and seas So fair a creature, as she lay enfolden In the warm shadow of her loveliness; He kissed her with his beams, and made all golden The chamber of grey rock in which she lay She, in that dream of joy, dissolved away. III. 'Tis said, she was first changed into a vapour, And then into a meteor, such as caper On hill-tops when the moon is in a fit; Then, into one of those mysterious stars Which hide themselves between the Earth and Mars. IV. Ten times the Mother of the Months had bent Since in that cave a dewy splendour hidden, V. A lovely lady garmented in light From her own beauty-deep her eyes, as are Two openings of unfathomable night Seen through a tempest's cloven roof-her hair Dark-the dim brain whirls dizzy with delight, Picturing her form; her soft smiles shone afar, And her low voice was heard like love, and drew All living things towards this wonder new. VI. And first the spotted cameleopard came, Of his own volumes intervolved ;-all gaunt VII. The brinded lioness led forth her young, That she might teach them how they should forego With looks whose motions spoke without a tongue VIII. And old Silenus, shaking a green stick And Driope and Faunus followed quick, Teasing the God to sing them something new, IX. And Universal Pan, 'tis said, was there, And though none saw him,-through the adamant Of the deep mountains, through the trackless air, He past out of his everlasting lair Where the quick heart of the great world doth pant, And felt that wondrous lady all alone, And she felt him, upon her emerald throne. X. And every nymph of stream and spreading tree, And quaint Priapus with his company All came, much wondering how the enwombed rocks Could have brought forth so beautiful a birth; Her love subdued their wonder and their mirth, XL. The herdsmen and the mountain maidens came, XII. For she was beautiful: her beauty made XIII. Which when the lady knew, she took her spindle And with these threads a subtle veil she wove- XIV. The deep recesses of her odorous dwelling Such as we hear in youth, and think the feeling XV. And there lay Visions swift, and sweet, and quaint, It is its work to bear to many a saint Whose heart adores the shrine which holiest is, Even Love's-and others white, green, grey and black, And of all shapes-and each was at her beck. XVI. And odours in a kind of aviary Of ever-blooming Eden-trees she kept,, Clipt in a floating net, a love-sick Fairy Had woven from dew-beams while the moon yet slept; |