PROMETHEUS BOUND
Thou renderest regard
To children of the dust,
Prometheus, more than just.
Nay look, O friend, and declare, is there grace that thy grace hath found?
Is anywhere power to save? is there help in perishing men?
Thou hast seen man's dark estate, wherein he is tied and bound,
A little strength without sap, the stuff of a dream: for when 550
Shall wit of man prevent
God's well-knit regiment?
Such thought in my heart, Prometheus, doth sight of thy ruin move:
And it leaps to my mind how far is this from the strain I sang
In the day of thy marriage feast, by the lavers and bed of love,
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