The City’s myriad spires of gold, almost
With human joy made mute society —
Its witnesses with men who must hereafter be:
XL
To see, like some vast island from the Ocean,
The Altar of the Federation rear
Its pile i’ the midst — a work which the devotion
Of millions in one night created there,
Sudden as when the moonrise makes appear
Strange clouds in the east — a marble pyramid
Distinct with steps; — that mighty shape did wear
The light of genius; its still shadow hid
Far ships; to know its height the morning mists forbid! —
XLI
To hear the restless multitudes forever
Around the base of that great Altar flow,
As on some mountain islet burst and shiver
Atlantic waves; and, solemnly and slow,
As the wind bore that tumult to and fro,
To feel the dreamlike music, which did swim
Like beams through floating clouds on waves below,
Falling in pauses, from that Altar dim,
As silver-sounding tongues breathed an aërial hymn.
XLII
To hear, to see, to live, was on that morn
Lethean joy! so that all those assembled
Cast off their memories of the past outworn;
Two only bosoms with their own life trembled,
And mine was one, — and we had both dissembled;
So with a beating heart I went, and one,
Who having much, covets yet more, resembled, —
A lost and dear possession, which not won,
He walks in lonely gloom beneath the noonday sun.
XLIII
To the great Pyramid I came; its stair
With female choirs was thronged, the loveliest
Among the free, grouped with its sculptures rare.
As I approached, the morning’s golden mist,
Which now the wonder-stricken breezes kissed
With their cold lips, fled, and the summit shone
Like Athos seen from Samothracia, dressed
In earliest light, by vintagers; and One
Sate there, a female Shape upon an ivory throne: —
XLIV
A Form most like the imagined habitant
Of silver exhalations sprung from dawn,
By winds which feed on sunrise woven, to enchant
The faiths of men. All mortal eyes were drawn —
As famished mariners through strange seas gone
Gaze on a burning watch-tower — by the light
Of those divinest lineaments. Alone,
With thoughts which none could share, from that fair sight
I turned in sickness, for a veil shrouded her countenance bright.
XLV
And neither did I hear the acclamations,
Which from brief silence bursting filled the air
With her strange name and mine, from all the nations
Which we, they said, in strength had gathered there
From the sleep of bondage; nor the vision fair
Of that bright pageantry beheld; but blind
And silent, as a breathing corpse, did fare,
Leaning upon my friend, till like a wind
To fevered cheeks a voice flowed o’er my troubled mind.
XLVI
Like music of some minstrel heavenly gifted,
To one whom fiends enthrall, this voice to me;
Scarce did I wish her veil to be uplifted,
I was so calm and joyous. I could see
The platform where we stood, the statues three
Which kept their marble watch on that high shrine,
The multitudes, the mountains, and the sea, —
As, when eclipse hath passed, things sudden shine
To men’s astonished eyes most clear and crystalline.
XLVII
At first Laone spoke most tremulously;
But soon her voice the calmness which it shed
Gathered, and—’Thou art whom I sought to see,
And thou art our first votary here,’ she said;
‘I had a dear friend once, but he is dead!
And, of all those on the wide earth who breathe,
Thou dost resemble him alone. I spread
This veil between us two that thou beneath
Shouldst image one who may have been long lost in death.
XLVIII
‘For this wilt thou not henceforth pardon me?
Yes, but those joys which silence well requite
Forbid reply. Why men have chosen me
To be the Priestess of this holiest rite
I scarcely know, but that the floods of light
Which flow over the world have borne me hither
To meet thee, long most dear. And now unite
Thine hand with mine, and may all comfort wither
From both the hearts whose pulse in joy now beat together,
XLIX
‘If our own will as others’ law we bind,
If the foul worship trampled here we fear,
If as ourselves we cease to love our kind!’ —
She paused, and pointed upwards — sculptured there
Three shapes around her ivory throne appear.
One was a Giant, like a child asleep
On a loose rock, whose grasp crushed, as it were
In dream, sceptres and crowns; and one did keep
Its watchful eyes in doubt whether to smile or weep —
L
A Woman sitting on the sculptured disk
Of the broad earth, and feeding from one breast
A human babe and a young basilisk;
Her looks were sweet as Heaven’s when loveliest
In Autumn eves. The third Image was dressed
In white wings swift as clouds in winter skies;
Beneath his feet, ‘mongst ghastliest forms, repressed
Lay Faith, an obscene worm, who sought to rise, —
While calmly on the Sun he turned his diamond eyes.
LI
Beside that Image then I sate, while she
Stood ‘mid the throngs which ever ebbed and flowed,
Like light amid the shadows of the sea
Cast from one cloudless star, and on the crowd
That touch which none who feels forgets bestowed;
And whilst the sun returned the steadfast gaze
Of the great Image, as o’er Heaven it glode,
That rite had place; it ceased when sunset’s blaze
Burned o’er the isles; all stood in joy and deep amaze —
When in the silence of all spirits there
Laone’s voice was felt, and through the air
Her thrilling gestures spoke, most eloquently fair.
1
‘Calm art thou as yon sunset! swift and strong
As new-fledged Eagles beautiful and young,
That float among the blinding beams of morning;
And underneath thy feet writhe Faith and Folly,
Custom and Hell and mortal Melancholy.
Hark! the Earth starts to hear the mighty warning
Of thy voice sublime and holy;
Its free spirits here assembled
See thee, feel thee, know thee now;
To thy voice their hearts have trembled,
Like ten thousand clouds which flow
With one wide wind as it flies!
Wisdom! thy irresistible children rise
To hail thee; and the elements they chain,
And their own will, to swell the glory of thy train!
2
‘O Spirit vast and deep as Night and Heaven,
Mother and soul of all to which is given
The light of life, the loveliness of being!
Lo! thou dost reascend the human heart,
Thy throne of power, almighty
as thou wert
In dreams of Poets old grown pale by seeing
The shade of thee; — now millions start
To feel thy lightnings through them burning!
Nature, or God, or Love, or Pleasure,
Or Sympathy, the sad tears turning
To mutual smiles, a drainless treasure,
Descends amidst us! Scorn and Hate,
Revenge and Selfishness, are desolate!
A hundred nations swear that there shall be
Pity and Peace and Love among the good and free!
3
‘Eldest of things, divine Equality!
Wisdom and Love are but the slaves of thee,
The angels of thy sway, who pour around thee
Treasures from all the cells of human thought
And from the Stars and from the Ocean brought,
And the last living heart whose beatings bound thee.
The powerful and the wise had sought
Thy coming; thou, in light descending
O’er the wide land which is thine own,
Like the spring whose breath is blending
All blasts of fragrance into one,
Comest upon the paths of men!
Earth bares her general bosom to thy ken,
And all her children here in glory meet
To feed upon thy smiles, and clasp thy sacred feet.
4
‘My brethren, we are free! the plains and mountains,
The gray sea-shore, the forests and the fountains,
Are haunts of happiest dwellers; man and woman,
Their common bondage burst, may freely borrow
From lawless love a solace for their sorrow;
For oft we still must weep, since we are human.
A stormy night’s serenest morrow,
Whose showers are pity’s gentle tears,
Whose clouds are smiles of those that die
Like infants without hopes or fears,
And whose beams are joys that lie
In blended hearts, now holds dominion, —
The dawn of mind, which, upwards on a pinion
Borne, swift as sunrise, far illumines space,
And clasps this barren world in its own bright embrace!
5
‘My brethren, we are free! the fruits are glowing
Beneath the stars, and the night-winds are flowing
O’er the ripe corn, the birds and beasts are dreaming.
Never again may blood of bird or beast
Stain with its venomous stream a human feast,
To the pure skies in accusation steaming!
Avenging poisons shall have ceased
To feed disease and fear and madness;
The dwellers of the earth and air
Shall throng around our steps in gladness,
Seeking their food or refuge there.
Our toil from thought all glorious forms shall cull,
To make this earth, our home, more beautiful,
And Science, and her sister Poesy,
Shall clothe in light the fields and cities of the free!
6
‘Victory, Victory to the prostrate nations!
Bear witness, Night, and ye mute Constellations
Who gaze on us from your crystalline cars!
Thoughts have gone forth whose powers can sleep no more!
Victory! Victory! Earth’s remotest shore,
Regions which groan beneath the Antarctic stars,
The green lands cradled in the roar
Of western waves, and wildernesses
Peopled and vast which skirt the oceans,
Where Morning dyes her golden tresses,
Shall soon partake our high emotions.
Kings shall turn pale! Almighty Fear,
The Fiend-God, when our charmèd name he hear,
Shall fade like shadow from his thousand fanes,
While Truth with Joy enthroned o’er his lost empire reigns!’
LII
Ere she had ceased, the mists of night entwining
Their dim woof floated o’er the infinite throng;
She, like a spirit through the darkness shining,
In tones whose sweetness silence did prolong
As if to lingering winds they did belong,
Poured forth her inmost soul: a passionate speech
With wild and thrilling pauses woven among,
Which whoso heard was mute, for it could teach
To rapture like her own all listening hearts to reach.
LIII
Her voice was as a mountain stream which sweeps
The withered leaves of autumn to the lake,
And in some deep and narrow bay then sleeps
In the shadow of the shores; as dead leaves wake,
Under the wave, in flowers and herbs which make
Those green depths beautiful when skies are blue,
The multitude so moveless did partake
Such living change, and kindling murmurs flew
As o’er that speechless calm delight and wonder grew.
LIV
Over the plain the throngs were scattered then
In groups around the fires, which from the sea
Even to the gorge of the first mountain glen
Blazed wide and far; the banquet of the free
Was spread beneath many a dark cypress tree,
Beneath whose spires, which swayed in the red flame,
Reclining as they ate, of Liberty
And Hope and Justice and Laone’s name
Earth’s children did a woof of happy converse frame.
LV
Their feast was such as Earth, the general mother,
Pours from her fairest bosom, when she smiles
In the embrace of Autumn; to each other
As when some parent fondly reconciles
Her warring children — she their wrath beguiles
With her own sustenance, they relenting weep —
Such was this Festival, which from their isles
And continents and winds and oceans deep
All shapes might throng to share that fly or walk or creep;
LVI
Might share in peace and innocence, for gore
Or poison none this festal did pollute,
But, piled on high, an overflowing store
Of pomegranates and citrons, fairest fruit,
Melons, and dates, and figs, and many a root
Sweet and sustaining, and bright grapes ere yet
Accursed fire their mild juice could transmute
Into a mortal bane, and brown corn set
In baskets; with pure streams their thirsting lips they wet.
LVII
Laone had descended from the shrine,
And every deepest look and holiest mind
Fed on her form, though now those tones divine
Were silent as she passed; she did unwind
Her veil, as with the crowds of her own kind
She mixed; some impulse made my heart refrain
From seeking her that night, so I reclined
Amidst a group, where on the utmost plain
A festal watch-fire burned beside the dusky main.
LVIII
And joyous was our feast; pathetic talk,
And wit, and harmony of choral strains,
While far Orion o’er the waves did walk
That flow among the isles, held us in chains
Of sweet captivity which none disdains
Who feels; but, when his zone grew dim in mist
Which clothes the Ocean’s bosom, o’er the plains
The multitudes went homeward to their rest,
Which that delightful day with its own shadow blest.
REVOLT OF ISLAM: Canto Sixth
I
BESIDE the dimness of the glimmering sea,
Weaving swift language from impassioned themes,
With that dear friend I lingered, who to me
Of the silver stars; and ever in soft dreams
Of future love and peace sweet converse lapped
Our willing fancies, till the pallid beams
Of the last watch-fire fell, and darkness wrapped
The waves, and each bright chain of floating fire was snapped,
II
And till we came even to the City’s wall
And the great gate. Then, none knew whence or why,
Disquiet on the multitudes did fall;
And first, one pale and breathless passed us by,
And stared and spoke not; then with piercing cry
A troop of wild-eyed women — by the shrieks
Of their own terror driven, tumultuously
Hither and thither hurrying with pale cheeks —
Each one from fear unknown a sudden refuge seeks
III
Then, rallying cries of treason and of danger
Resounded, and—’They come! to arms! to arms!
The Tyrant is amongst us, and the stranger
Comes to enslave us in his name! to arms!’
In vain: for Panic, the pale fiend who charms
Strength to forswear her right, those millions swept
Like waves before the tempest. These alarms
Came to me, as to know their cause I leapt
On the gate’s turret, and in rage and grief and scorn I wept!
IV
For to the north I saw the town on fire,
And its red light made morning pallid now,
Which burst over wide Asia; — louder, higher,
The yells of victory and the screams of woe
I heard approach, and saw the throng below
Stream through the gates like foam-wrought waterfalls
Fed from a thousand storms — the fearful glow
Of bombs flares overhead — at intervals
The red artillery’s bolt mangling among them falls.
V
And now the horsemen come — and all was done
Swifter than I have spoken — I beheld
Their red swords flash in the unrisen sun.
I rushed among the rout to have repelled
That miserable flight — one moment quelled
By voice, and looks, and eloquent despair,
As if reproach from their own hearts withheld
Their steps, they stood; but soon came pouring there
New multitudes, and did those rallied bands o’erbear.
VI
I strove, as drifted on some cataract
By irresistible streams some wretch might strive
Who hears its fatal roar; the files compact
Whelmed me, and from the gate availed to drive
With quickening impulse, as each bolt did rive
Their ranks with bloodier chasm; into the plain
Disgorged at length the dead and the alive
In one dread mass were parted, and the stain
Percy Bysshe Shelley - Delphi Poets Series Page 54