Page:Prometheus Unbound - Shelley.djvu/83

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PANTHEA
      Look how the gusty sea of mist is breaking
      In crimson foam, even at our feet! it rises
      As Ocean at the enchantment of the moon
      Round foodless men wrecked on some oozy isle.

ASIA
      The fragments of the cloud are scattered up;
      The wind that lifts them disentwines my hair;
      Its billows now sweep o'er mine eyes; my brain
      Grows dizzy; I see shapes within the mist.

PANTHEA
      A countenance with beckoning smiles; there burns
      An azure fire within its golden locks!
      Another and another: hark! they speak!

SONG OF SPIRITS
        To the deep, to the deep,
                Down down!
        Through the shade of sleep,
        Through the cloudy strife
        Of Death and of Life;
        Through the veil and the bar
        Of things which seem and are,
        Even to the steps of the remotest throne,
                Down, down!