Of silent rowers clove the blue moonlight seas,
Until upon their path the morning broke;
2905
They anchored then, where, be there calm or breeze,
The gloomiest of the drear Symplegades
Shakes with the sleepless surge;—the Ethiop there
Wound his long arms around her, and with knees
Like iron clasped her feet, and plunged with her
2910
Among the closing waves out of the boundless air.
X
‘Swift as an eagle stooping from the plain
Of morning light, into some shadowy wood,
He plunged through the green silence of the main,
Through many a cavern which the eternal flood
2915
Had scooped, as dark lairs for its monster brood;
And among mighty shapes which fled in wonder,
And among mightier shadows which pursued
His heels, he wound: until the dark rocks under
He touched a golden chain—a sound arose like thunder.
XI
2920
‘A stunning clang of massive bolts redoubling
Beneath the deep—a burst of waters driven
As from the roots of the sea, raging and bubbling:
And in that roof of crags a space was riven
Through which there shone the emerald beams of heaven,
2925
Shot through the lines of many waves inwoven,
Like sunlight through acacia woods at even,
Through which, his way the diver having cloven,
Passed like a spark sent up out of a burning oven,
XII
‘And then,’ she said, ‘he laid me in a cave
2930
Above the waters, by that chasm of sea,
A fountain round and vast, in which the wave
Imprisoned, boiled and leaped perpetually,
Down which, one moment resting, he did flee,
Winning the adverse depth; that spacious cell
2935
Like an hupaithric temple wide and high,
Whose aëry dome is inaccessible,
Was pierced with one round cleft through which the sunbeams fell.
XIII
‘Below, the fountain’s brink was richly paven
With the deep’s wealth, coral, and pearl, and sand
2940
Like spangling gold, and purple shells engraven
With mystic legends by no mortal hand,
Left there, when thronging to the moon’s command,
The gathering waves rent the Hesperian gate
Of mountains, and on such bright floor did stand
2945
Columns, and shapes like statues, and the state
Of kingless thrones, which Earth did in her heart create.
XIV
‘The fiend of madness which had made its prey
Of my poor heart, was lulled to sleep awhile:
There was an interval of many a day,
2950
And a sea-eagle brought me food the while,
Whose nest was built in that untrodden isle,
And who, to be the gaoler had been taught
Of that strange dungeon; as a friend whose smile
Like light and rest at morn and even is sought
That wild bird was to me, till madness misery brought.
XV
‘The misery of a madness slow and creeping,
Which made the earth seem fire, the sea seem air,
And the white clouds of noon which oft were sleeping,
In the blue heaven so beautiful and fair,
2960
Like hosts of ghastly shadows hovering there;
And the sea-eagle looked a fiend, who bore
Thy mangled limbs for food!—Thus all things were
Transformed into the agony which I wore
Even as a poisoned robe around my bosom’s core.
XVI
2965
‘Again I knew the day and night fast fleeing,
The eagle, and the fountain, and the air;
Another frenzy came—there seemed a being
Within me—a strange load my heart did bear,
As if some living thing had made its lair
2970
Even in the fountains of my life:—a long
And wondrous vision wrought from my despair,
Then grew, like sweet reality among
Dim visionary woes, an unreposing throng.
XVII
‘Methought I was about to be a mother—
2975
Month after month went by, and still I dreamed
That we should soon be all to one another,
I and my child; and still new pulses seemed
To beat beside my heart, and still I deemed
There was a babe within—and, when the rain
2980
Of winter through the rifted cavern streamed,
Methought, after a lapse of lingering pain,
I saw that lovely shape, which near my heart had lain.
XVIII
‘It was a babe, beautiful from its birth,—
It was like thee, dear love, its eyes were thine,
2985
Its brow, its lips, and so upon the earth
It laid its fingers, as now rest on mine
Thine own, belovèd!—’twas a dream divine;
Even to remember how it fled, how swift,
How utterly, might make the heart repine,—
2990
Though ’twas a dream.’—Then Cythna did uplift
Her looks on mine, as if some doubt she sought to shift:
XIX
A doubt which would not flee, a tenderness
Of questioning grief, a source of thronging tears:
Which having passed, as one whom sobs oppress
2995
She spoke: ‘Yes, in the wilderness of years
Her memory, aye, like a green home appears;
She sucked her fill even at this breast, sweet love,
For many months. I had no mortal fears;
Methought I felt her lips and breath approve,—
3000
It was a human thing which to my bosom clove.
XX
‘I watched the dawn of her first smiles, and soon
When zenith-stars were trembling on the wave,
Or when the beams of the invisible moon,
Or sun, from many a prism within the cave
3005
Their gem-born shadows to the water gave,
Her looks would hunt them, and with outspread hand,
From the swift lights which might that fountain pave,
She would mark one, and laugh, when that command
Slighting, it lingered there, and could not understand.
XXI
3010
‘Methought her looks began to talk with me;
And no articulate sounds, but something sweet
Her lips would frame,—so sweet it could not be,
That it was meaningless; her touch would meet
Mine, and our pulses calmly flow and beat
3015
In response while we slept; and on a day
When I was happiest in that strange retreat,
With heaps of golden shells we two did play,—
Both infants, weaving wings for time’s perpetual way.
XXII
‘Ere night, methought, her waning eyes were grown
3020
Weary with joy, and tired with our delight,
We, on the earth, like sister twins lay down
On one fair mother’s bosom:—from that night
She fled;—like those illusions clear and bright,
Which dwell in lakes, when the red moon on high
3025
Pause ere it wakens tempest;—and her flight,
Though ’twas the death of brainless fanta
sy,
Yet smote my lonesome heart more than all misery.
XXIII
‘It seemed that in the dreary night, the diver
Who brought me thither, came again, and bore
3030
My child away. I saw the waters quiver,
When he so swiftly sunk, as once before;
Then morning came—it shone even as of yore,
But I was changed—the very life was gone
Out of my heart—I wasted more and more,
3035
Day after day, and sitting there alone,
Vexed the inconstant waves with my perpetual moan.
XXIV
‘I was no longer mad, and yet methought
My breasts were swoln and changed:—in every vein
The blood stood still one moment, while that thought
3040
Was passing—with a gush of sickening pain
It ebbed even to its withered springs again:
When my wan eyes in stern resolve I turned
From that most strange delusion, which would fain
Have waked the dream for which my spirit yearned
3045
With more than human love,—then left it unreturned.
XXV
‘So now my reason was restored to me
I struggled with that dream, which, like a beast
Most fierce and beauteous, in my memory
Had made its lair, and on my heart did feast;
3050
But all that cave and all its shapes, possessed
By thoughts which could not fade, renewed each one
Some smile, some look, some gesture which had blessed
Me heretofore: I, sitting there alone,
Vexed the inconstant waves with my perpetual moan.
XXVI
‘Time passed, I know not whether months or years;
For day, nor night, nor change of seasons made
Its note, but thoughts and unavailing tears:
And I became at last even as a shade,
A smoke, a cloud on which the winds have preyed,
3060
Till it be thin as air; until, one even,
A Nautilus upon the fountain played,
Spreading his azure sail where breath of Heaven
Descended not, among the waves and whirlpools driven,
XXVII
‘And, when the Eagle came, that lovely thing,
3065
Oaring with rosy feet its silver boat,
Fled near me as for shelter; on slow wing,
The Eagle, hovering o’er his prey did float;
But when he saw that I with fear did note
His purpose, proffering my own food to him,
3070
The eager plumes subsided on his throat—
He came where that bright child of sea did swim,
And o’er it cast in peace his shadow broad and dim.
XXVIII
‘This wakened me, it gave me human strength;
And hope, I knew not whence or wherefore, rose,
3075
But I resumed my ancient powers at length;
My spirit felt again like one of those
Like thine, whose fate it is to make the woes
Of humankind their prey—what was this cave?
Its deep foundation no firm purpose knows
3080
Immutable, resistless, strong to save,
Like mind while yet it mocks the all-devouring grave.
XXIX
‘And where was Laon? might my heart be dead,
While that far dearer heart could move and be?
Or whilst over the earth the pall was spread,
3085
Which I had sworn to rend? I might be free,
Could I but win that friendly bird to me,
To bring me ropes; and long in vain I sought
By intercourse of mutual imagery
Of objects, if such aid he could be taught;
3090
But fruit, and flowers, and boughs, yet never ropes he brought.
XXX
‘We live in our own world, and mine was made
From glorious fantasies of hope departed:
Aye we are darkened with their floating shade,
Or cast a lustre on them—time imparted
3095
Such power to me—I became fearless-hearted,
My eye and voice grew firm, calm was my mind,
And piercing, like the morn, now it has darted
Its lustre on all hidden things, behind
Yon dim and fading clouds which load the weary wind.
XXXI
3100
‘My mind became the book through which I grew
Wise in all human wisdom, and its cave,
Which like a mine I rifled through and through,
To me the keeping of its secrets gave—
One mind, the type of all, the moveless wave
3105
Whose calm reflects all moving things that are,
Necessity, and love, and life, the grave,
And sympathy, fountains of hope and fear;
Justice, and truth, and time, and the world’s natural sphere.
XXXII
‘And on the sand would I make signs to range
3110
These woofs, as they were woven, of my thought;
Clear, elemental shapes, whose smallest change
A subtler language within language wrought:
The key of truths which once were dimly taught
In old Crotona;—and sweet melodies
3115
Of love, in that lorn solitude I caught
From mine own voice in dream, when thy dear eyes
Shone through my sleep, and did that utterance harmonize,
XXXIII
‘Thy songs were winds whereon I fled at will,
As in a wingèd chariot, o’er the plain
3120
Of crystal youth; and thou wert there to fill
My heart with joy, and there we sate again
On the gray margin of the glimmering main,
Happy as then but wiser far, for we
Smiled on the flowery grave in which were lain
3125
Fear, Faith, and Slavery; and mankind was free,
Equal, and pure, and wise, in Wisdom’s prophecy.
XXXIV
‘For to my will my fancies were as slaves
To do their sweet and subtile ministries;
And oft from that bright fountain’s shadowy waves
3130
They would make human throngs gather and rise
To combat with my overflowing eyes,
And voice made deep with passion—thus I grew
Familiar with the shock and the surprise
And war of earthly minds, from which I drew
3135
The power which has been mine to frame their thoughts anew.
XXXV
‘And thus my prison was the populous earth—
Where I saw—even as misery dreams of morn
Before the east has given its glory birth—
Religion’s pomp made desolate by the scorn
3140
Of Wisdom’s faintest smile, and thrones, uptorn,
And dwellings of mild people interspersed
With undivided fields of ripening corn,
And love made free,—a hope which we have nursed
Even with our blood and tears,—until its glory burst.
XXXVI
3145
‘All is not lost! There is some recompense
For hope whose fountain can be thus profound,
Even thronèd Evil’s splendid impotence,
Girt by its hell of power, the secret sound
Of hymns to truth and freedom—the dread bound
3150
Of life and death passed fearlessly and well,
Dungeons wherein t
he high resolve is found,
Racks which degraded woman’s greatness tell,
And what may else be good and irresistible.
XXXVII
‘Such are the thoughts which, like the fires that flare
3155
In storm-encompassed isles, we cherish yet
In this dark ruin—such were mine even there;
As in its sleep some odorous violet,
While yet its leaves with nightly dews are wet,
Breathes in prophetic dreams of day’s uprise,
3160
Or, as ere Scythian frost in fear has met
Spring’s messengers descending from the skies,
The buds foreknow their life—this hope must ever rise.
XXXVIII
‘So years had passed, when sudden earthquake rent
The depth of ocean, and the cavern cracked
3165
With sound, as if the world’s wide continent
Had fallen in universal ruin wracked:
And through the cleft streamed in one cataract
The stifling waters—when I woke, the flood
Whose banded waves that crystal cave had sacked
3170
Was ebbing round me, and my bright abode
Before me yawned—a chasm desert, and bare, and broad.
XXXIX
‘Above me was the sky, beneath the sea:
I stood upon a point of shattered stone,
And heard loose rocks rushing tumultuously
3175
With splash and shock into the deep—anon
All ceased, and there was silence wide and lone.
I felt that I was free! The Ocean-spray
Quivered beneath my feet, the broad Heaven shone
Around, and in my hair the winds did play
3180
Lingering as they pursued their unimpeded way.
XL
The Complete Poems of Percy Bysshe Shelley: (A Modern Library E-Book) Page 19
