Page:Prometheus Unbound - Shelley.djvu/137

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PANTHEA
      Ha! they are gone!

IONE
                          Yet feel you no delight
      From the past sweetness?

PANTHEA
                                As the bare green hill,
      When some soft cloud vanishes into rain,
      Laughs with a thousand drops of sunny water
      To the unpavilioned sky!

IONE
                                Even whilst we speak
      New notes arise. What is that awful sound?

PANTHEA
      'T is the deep music of the rolling world,
      Kindling within the strings of the waved air
      Æolian modulations.

IONE
                            Listen too,
      How every pause is filled with under-notes,
      Clear, silver, icy, keen awakening tones,
      Which pierce the sense, and live within the soul,
      As the sharp stars pierce winter's crystal air
      And gaze upon themselves within the sea.

PANTHEA
      But see where, through two openings in the forest
      Which hanging branches overcanopy,
      And where two runnels of a rivulet,
      Between the close moss violet-inwoven,
      Have made their path of melody, like sisters