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Selected Poems and Prose

Page 7

by Percy Bysshe Shelley


  Its kindred beings recognized.

  100The thronging thousands, to a passing view,

  Seemed like an anthill’s citizens.

  How wonderful! that even

  The passions, prejudices, interests,

  That sway the meanest being, the weak touch

  105 That moves the finest nerve,

  And in one human brain

  Causes the faintest thought, becomes a link

  In the great chain of nature.

  Behold, the Fairy cried,

  110 Palmyra’s ruined palaces!—

  Behold! where grandeur frowned;

  Behold! where pleasure smiled;

  What now remains?—the memory

  Of senselessness and shame—

  115 What is immortal there?

  Nothing—it stands to tell

  A melancholy tale, to give

  An awful warning: soon

  Oblivion will steal silently

  120 The remnant of its fame.

  Monarchs and conquerors there

  Proud o’er prostrate millions trod—

  The earthquakes of the human race;

  Like them, forgotten when the ruin

  125 That marks their shock is past.

  Beside the eternal Nile,

  The Pyramids have risen.

  Nile shall pursue his changeless way:

  Those pyramids shall fall;

  130 Yea! not a stone shall stand to tell

  The spot whereon they stood;

  Their very scite shall be forgotten,

  As is their builder’s name!

  Behold yon sterile spot;

  135 Where now the wandering Arab’s tent

  Flaps in the desart-blast.

  There once old Salem’s haughty fane

  Reared high to heaven its thousand golden domes,

  And in the blushing face of day

  140 Exposed its shameful glory.

  Oh! many a widow, many an orphan cursed

  The building of that fane; and many a father,

  Worn out with toil and slavery, implored

  The poor man’s God to sweep it from the earth,

  145And spare his children the detested task

  Of piling stone on stone, and poisoning

  The choicest days of life,

  To soothe a dotard’s vanity.

  There an inhuman and uncultured race

  150Howled hideous praises to their Demon-God;

  They rushed to war, tore from the mother’s womb

  The unborn child,—old age and infancy

  Promiscuous perished; their victorious arms

  Left not a soul to breathe. Oh! they were fiends:

  155But what was he who taught them that the God

  Of nature and benevolence had given

  A special sanction to the trade of blood?

  His name and theirs are fading, and the tales

  Of this barbarian nation, which imposture

  160Recites till terror credits, are pursuing

  Itself into forgetfulness.

  Where Athens, Rome, and Sparta stood,

  There is a moral desart now:

  The mean and miserable huts,

  165 The yet more wretched palaces,

  Contrasted with those antient fanes

  Now crumbling to oblivion;

  The long and lonely colonnades,

  Through which the ghost of Freedom stalks,

  170 Seem like a well-known tune,

  Which, in some dear scene we have loved to hear,

  Remembered now in sadness.

  But, oh! how much more changed,

  How gloomier is the contrast

  175 Of human nature there!

  Where Socrates expired, a tyrant’s slave,

  A coward and a fool, spreads death around—

  Then, shuddering, meets his own.

  Where Cicero and Antoninus lived,

  180 A cowled and hypocritical monk

  Prays, curses and deceives.

  Spirit! ten thousand years

  Have scarcely past away,

  Since, in the waste where now the savage drinks

  185His enemy’s blood, and aping Europe’s sons,

  Wakes the unholy song of war,

  Arose a stately city,

  Metropolis of the western continent:

  There, now, the mossy column-stone,

  190Indented by time’s unrelaxing grasp,

  Which once appeared to brave

  All, save its country’s ruin;

  There the wide forest scene,

  Rude in the uncultivated loveliness

  195 Of gardens long run wild,

  Seems, to the unwilling sojourner, whose steps

  Chance in that desart has delayed,

  Thus to have stood since earth was what it is.

  Yet once it was the busiest haunt,

  200Whither, as to a common centre, flocked

  Strangers, and ships, and merchandize:

  Once peace and freedom blest

  The cultivated plain:

  But wealth, that curse of man,

  205Blighted the bud of its prosperity:

  Virtue and wisdom, truth and liberty,

  Fled, to return not, until man shall know

  That they alone can give the bliss

  Worthy a soul that claims

  210 Its kindred with eternity.

  There’s not one atom of yon earth

  But once was living man;

  Nor the minutest drop of rain,

  That hangeth in its thinnest cloud,

  215 But flowed in human veins:

  And from the burning plains

  Where Lybian monsters yell,

  From the most gloomy glens

  Of Greenland’s sunless clime,

  220 To where the golden fields

  Of fertile England spread

  Their harvest to the day,

  Thou canst not find one spot

  Whereon no city stood.

  225 How strange is human pride!

  I tell thee that those living things,

  To whom the fragile blade of grass,

  That springeth in the morn

  And perisheth ere noon,

  230 Is an unbounded world;

  I tell thee that those viewless beings,

  Whose mansion is the smallest particle

  Of the impassive atmosphere,

  Think, feel and live like man;

  235That their affections and antipathies,

  Like his, produce the laws

  Ruling their moral state;

  And the minutest throb

  That through their frame diffuses

  240 The slightest, faintest motion,

  Is fixed and indispensable

  As the majestic laws

  That rule yon rolling orbs.

  The Fairy paused. The Spirit,

  245In extacy of admiration, felt

  All knowledge of the past revived; the events

  Of old and wondrous times,

  Which dim tradition interruptedly

  Teaches the credulous vulgar, were unfolded

  250 In just perspective to the view;

  Yet dim from their infinitude.

  The Spirit seemed to stand

  High on an isolated pinnacle;

  The flood of ages combating below,

  255The depth of the unbounded universe

  Above, and all around

  Nature’s unchanging harmony.

  III

  Fairy! the Spirit said,

  And on the Queen of Spells

  Fixed her etherial eyes,

  I thank thee. Thou hast given

  5A boon which I will not resign, and taught

  A lesson not to be unlearned. I know

  The past, and thence I will essay to glean

  A warning for the future, so that man

  May profit by his errors, and derive

  10 Experience from his folly:

  For, whe
n the power of imparting joy

  Is equal to the will, the human soul

  Requires no other heaven.

  MAB

  Turn thee, surpassing Spirit!

  15 Much yet remains unscanned.

  Thou knowest how great is man,

  Thou knowest his imbecility:

  Yet learn thou what he is;

  Yet learn the lofty destiny

  20 Which restless time prepares

  For every living soul.

  Behold a gorgeous palace, that, amid

  Yon populous city, rears its thousand towers

  And seems itself a city. Gloomy troops

  25Of centinels, in stern and silent ranks,

  Encompass it around: the dweller there

  Cannot be free and happy; hearest thou not

  The curses of the fatherless, the groans

  Of those who have no friend? He passes on:

  30The King, the wearer of a gilded chain

  That binds his soul to abjectness, the fool

  Whom courtiers nickname monarch, whilst a slave

  Even to the basest appetites—that man

  Heeds not the shriek of penury; he smiles

  35At the deep curses which the destitute

  Mutter in secret, and a sullen joy

  Pervades his bloodless heart when thousands groan

  But for those morsels which his wantonness

  Wastes in unjoyous revelry, to save

  40All that they love from famine: when he hears

  The tale of horror, to some ready-made face

  Of hypocritical assent he turns,

  Smothering the glow of shame, that, spite of him,

  Flushes his bloated cheek.

  Now to the meal

  45Of silence, grandeur, and excess, he drags

  His palled unwilling appetite. If gold,

  Gleaming around, and numerous viands culled

  From every clime, could force the loathing sense

  To overcome satiety,—if wealth

  50The spring it draws from poisons not,—or vice,

  Unfeeling, stubborn vice, converteth not

  Its food to deadliest venom; then that king

  Is happy; and the peasant who fulfills

  His unforced task, when he returns at even,

  55And by the blazing faggot meets again

  Her welcome for whom all his toil is sped,

  Tastes not a sweeter meal.

  Behold him now

  Stretched on the gorgeous couch; his fevered brain

  Reels dizzily awhile: but ah! too soon

  60The slumber of intemperance subsides,

  And conscience, that undying serpent, calls

  Her venomous brood to their nocturnal task.

  Listen! he speaks! oh! mark that frenzied eye—

  Oh! mark that deadly visage.

  KING

  No cessation!

  65Oh! must this last forever! Awful death,

  I wish, yet fear to clasp thee!—Not one moment

  Of dreamless sleep! O dear and blessed peace!

  Why dost thou shroud thy vestal purity

  In penury and dungeons? Wherefore lurkest

  70With danger, death, and solitude; yet shun’st

  The palace I have built thee? Sacred peace!

  Oh visit me but once, but pitying shed

  One drop of balm upon my withered soul.

  MAB

  Vain man! that palace is the virtuous heart,

  75And peace defileth not her snowy robes

  In such a shed as thine. Hark! yet he mutters;

  His slumbers are but varied agonies,

  They prey like scorpions on the springs of life.

  There needeth not the hell that bigots frame

  80To punish those who err: earth in itself

  Contains at once the evil and the cure;

  And all-sufficing nature can chastise

  Those who transgress her law,—she only knows

  How justly to proportion to the fault

  85The punishment it merits.

  Is it strange

  That this poor wretch should pride him in his woe?

  Take pleasure in his abjectness, and hug

  The scorpion that consumes him? Is it strange

  That, placed on a conspicuous throne of thorns,

  90Grasping an iron sceptre, and immured

  Within a splendid prison, whose stern bounds

  Shut him from all that’s good or dear on earth,

  His soul asserts not its humanity?

  That man’s mild nature rises not in war

  95Against a king’s employ? No—’tis not strange.

  He, like the vulgar, thinks, feels, acts and lives

  Just as his father did; the unconquered powers

  Of precedent and custom interpose

  Between a king and virtue. Stranger yet,

  100To those who know not nature, nor deduce

  The future from the present, it may seem,

  That not one slave, who suffers from the crimes

  Of this unnatural being; not one wretch,

  Whose children famish, and whose nuptial bed

  105Is earth’s unpitying bosom, rears an arm

  To dash him from his throne!

  Those gilded flies

  That, basking in the sunshine of a court,

  Fatten on its corruption!—what are they?

  —The drones of the community; they feed

  110On the mechanic’s labour: the starved hind

  For them compels the stubborn glebe to yield

  Its unshared harvests; and yon squalid form,

  Leaner than fleshless misery, that wastes

  A sunless life in the unwholesome mine,

  115Drags out in labour a protracted death,

  To glut their grandeur; many faint with toil,

  That few may know the cares and woe of sloth.

  Whence, thinkest thou, kings and parasites arose?

  Whence that unnatural line of drones, who heap

  120Toil and unvanquishable penury

  On those who build their palaces, and bring

  Their daily bread?—From vice, black loathsome vice;

  From rapine, madness, treachery, and wrong;

  From all that genders misery, and makes

  125Of earth this thorny wilderness; from lust,

  Revenge, and murder … And when reason’s voice,

  Loud as the voice of nature, shall have waked

  The nations; and mankind perceive that vice

  Is discord, war, and misery; that virtue

  130Is peace, and happiness and harmony;

  When man’s maturer nature shall disdain

  The playthings of its childhood;—kingly glare

  Will lose its power to dazzle; its authority

  Will silently pass by; the gorgeous throne

  135Shall stand unnoticed in the regal hall,

  Fast falling to decay; whilst falsehood’s trade

  Shall be as hateful and unprofitable

  As that of truth is now.

  Where is the fame

  Which the vain-glorious mighty of the earth

  140Seek to eternize? Oh! the faintest sound

  From time’s light footfall, the minutest wave

  That swells the flood of ages, whelms in nothing

  The unsubstantial bubble. Aye! to-day

  Stern is the tyrant’s mandate, red the gaze

  145That flashes desolation, strong the arm

  That scatters multitudes. To-morrow comes!

  That mandate is a thunder-peal that died

  In ages past; that gaze, a transient flash

  On which the midnight closed, and on that arm

  150The worm has made his meal.

  The virtuous man,

  Who, great in his humility, as kings

  Are little in their grandeur; he who leads

  Invincibly a life of resolute good,

  And stands amid
the silent dungeon-depths

  155More free and fearless than the trembling judge,

  Who, clothed in venal power, vainly strove

  To bind the impassive spirit;—when he falls,

  His mild eye beams benevolence no more:

  Withered the hand outstretched but to relieve;

  160Sunk reason’s simple eloquence, that rolled

  But to appal the guilty. Yes! the grave

  Hath quenched that eye, and death’s relentless frost

  Withered that arm: but the unfading fame

  Which virtue hangs upon its votary’s tomb;

  165The deathless memory of that man, whom kings

  Call to their mind and tremble; the remembrance

  With which the happy spirit contemplates

  Its well-spent pilgrimage on earth,

  Shall never pass away.

  170Nature rejects the monarch, not the man;

  The subject, not the citizen: for kings

  And subjects, mutual foes, forever play

  A losing game into each other’s hands,

  Whose stakes are vice and misery. The man

  175Of virtuous soul commands not, nor obeys.

  Power, like a desolating pestilence,

  Pollutes whate’er it touches; and obedience,

  Bane of all genius, virtue, freedom, truth,

  Makes slaves of men, and, of the human frame,

  180A mechanized automaton.

  When Nero,

  High over flaming Rome, with savage joy

  Lowered like a fiend, drank with enraptured ear

  The shrieks of agonizing death, beheld

  The frightful desolation spread, and felt

  185A new created sense within his soul

  Thrill to the sight, and vibrate to the sound;

  Thinkest thou his grandeur had not overcome

  The force of human kindness? And, when Rome,

  With one stern blow, hurled not the tyrant down,

  190Crushed not the arm red with her dearest blood,

  Had not submissive abjectness destroyed

  Nature’s suggestions?

  Look on yonder earth:

  The golden harvests spring; the unfailing sun

  Sheds light and life; the fruits, the flowers, the trees,

  195Arise in due succession; all things speak

  Peace, harmony, and love. The universe,

  In nature’s silent eloquence, declares

  That all fulfil the works of love and joy,—

  All but the outcast, man. He fabricates

  200The sword which stabs his peace; he cherisheth

  The snakes that gnaw his heart; he raiseth up

  The tyrant, whose delight is in his woe,

  Whose sport is in his agony. Yon sun,

  Lights it the great alone? Yon silver beams,

 

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