Page:Prometheus Unbound - Shelley.djvu/127

Panthea.

The past Hours weak and grey,

With the spoil which their toil
Raked together
From the conquest but One could foil.

Ione.

Have they past?

Panthea.

They have past;

They outspeeded the blast,
While 'tis said, they are fled:

Ione.

Whither, oh, whither?

Panthea.

To the dark, to the past, to the dead.

VOICE of unseen spirits.

Bright clouds float in heaven,

Dew-stars gleam on earth,