SCENE I.
PROMETHEUS UNBOUND.
71
While our music, wild and sweet,
Mocks thy gently falling feet,
Child of Ocean!
Asia. Shall we pursue the sound? It grows more faint
And distant.
Pan. List! the strain floats nearer now.
Echoes
Sleeps a voice unspoken;
By thy step alone
Can its rest be broken;
Child of Ocean!
Asia. How the notes sink upon the ebbing wind!
Echoes
Through the caverns hollow,
As the song floats thou pursue,
By the woodland noontide dew;
By the forests, lakes, and fountains,
Through the many-folded mountains;
