Page:Prometheus Unbound - Shelley.djvu/35

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PHANTASM OF JUPITER
      Why have the secret powers of this strange world
      Driven me, a frail and empty phantom, hither
      On direst storms? What unaccustomed sounds
      Are hovering on my lips, unlike the voice
      With which our pallid race hold ghastly talk
      In darkness? And, proud sufferer, who art thou?

PROMETHEUS
      Tremendous Image! as thou art must be
      He whom thou shadowest forth. I am his foe,
      The Titan. Speak the words which I would hear,
      Although no thought inform thine empty voice.

THE EARTH
      Listen! And though your echoes must be mute,
      Gray mountains, and old woods, and haunted springs,
      Prophetic caves, and isle-surrounding streams,
      Rejoice to hear what yet ye cannot speak.

PHANTASM
      A spirit seizes me and speaks within;
      It tears me as fire tears a thunder-cloud.

PANTHEA
      See how he lifts his mighty looks! the Heaven
      Darkens above.

IONE
                      He speaks! Oh, shelter me!

PROMETHEUS
      I see the curse on gestures proud and cold,
      And looks of firm defiance, and calm hate,
      And such despair as mocks itself with smiles,
      Written as on a scroll: yet speak! Oh, speak!