Percy Bysshe Shelley - Delphi Poets Series

by Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Of blood from mortal steel fell o’er the fields like rain.

  VII

  For now the despot’s bloodhounds with their prey,

  Unarmed and unaware, were gorging deep

  Their gluttony of death; the loose array

  Of horsemen o’er the wide fields murdering sweep,

  And with loud laughter for their Tyrant reap

  A harvest sown with other hopes; the while,

  Far overhead, ships from Propontis keep

  A killing rain of fire. When the waves smile

  As sudden earthquakes light many a volcano isle,

  VIII

  Thus sudden, unexpected feast was spread

  For the carrion fowls of Heaven. I saw the sight —

  I moved — I lived — as o’er the heaps of dead,

  Whose stony eyes glared in the morning light,

  I trod; to me there came no thought of flight,

  But with loud cries of scorn, which whoso heard

  That dreaded death felt in his veins the might

  Of virtuous shame return, the crowd I stirred,

  And desperation’s hope in many hearts recurred.

  IX

  A band of brothers gathering round me made,

  Although unarmed, a steadfast front, and, still

  Retreating, with stern looks beneath the shade

  Of gathered eyebrows, did the victors fill

  With doubt even in success; deliberate will

  Inspired our growing troop; not overthrown,

  It gained the shelter of a grassy hill, —

  And ever still our comrades were hewn down,

  And their defenceless limbs beneath our footsteps strown.

  X

  Immovably we stood; in joy I found

  Beside me then, firm as a giant pine

  Among the mountain vapors driven around,

  The old man whom I loved; his eyes divine

  With a mild look of courage answered mine,

  And my young friend was near, and ardently

  His hand grasped mine a moment; now the line

  Of war extended, to our rallying cry

  As myriads flocked in love and brotherhood to die.

  XI

  For ever while the sun was climbing Heaven

  The horseman hewed our unarmed myriads down

  Safely, though when by thirst of carnage driven

  Too near, those slaves were swiftly overthrown

  By hundreds leaping on them; flesh and bone

  Soon made our ghastly ramparts; then the shaft

  Of the artillery from the sea was thrown

  More fast and fiery, and the conquerors laughed

  In pride to hear the wind our screams of torment waft.

  XII

  For on one side alone the hill gave shelter,

  So vast that phalanx of unconquered men,

  And there the living in the blood did welter

  Of the dead and dying, which in that green glen,

  Like stifled torrents, made a plashy fen

  Under the feet. Thus was the butchery waged

  While the sun clomb Heaven’s eastern steep; but, when

  It ‘gan to sink, a fiercer combat raged,

  For in more doubtful strife the armies were engaged.

  XIII

  Within a cave upon the hill were found

  A bundle of rude pikes, the instrument

  Of those who war but on their native ground

  For natural rights; a shout of joyance, sent

  Even from our hearts, the wide air pierced and rent,

  As those few arms the bravest and the best

  Seized, and each sixth, thus armed, did now present

  A line which covered and sustained the rest,

  A confident phalanx which the foes on every side invest.

  XIV

  That onset turned the foes to flight almost;

  But soon they saw their present strength, and knew

  That coming night would to our resolute host

  Bring victory; so, dismounting, close they drew

  Their glittering files, and then the combat grew

  Unequal but most horrible; and ever

  Our myriads, whom the swift bolt overthrew,

  Or the red sword, failed like a mountain river

  Which rushes forth in foam to sink in sands forever.

  XV

  Sorrow and shame, to see with their own kind

  Our human brethren mix, like beasts of blood,

  To mutual ruin armed by one behind

  Who sits and scoffs! — that friend so mild and good,

  Who like its shadow near my youth had stood,

  Was stabbed! — my old preserver’s hoary hair,

  With the flesh clinging to its roots, was strewed

  Under my feet! I lost all sense or care,

  And like the rest I grew desperate and unaware.

  XVI

  The battle became ghastlier; in the midst

  I paused, and saw how ugly and how fell,

  O Hate! thou art, even when thy life thou shedd’st

  For love. The ground in many a little dell

  Was broken, up and down whose steeps befell

  Alternate victory and defeat; and there

  The combatants with rage most horrible

  Strove, and their eyes started with cracking stare,

  And impotent their tongues they lolled into the air,

  XVII

  Flaccid and foamy, like a mad dog’s hanging.

  Want, and Moon-madness, and the pest’s swift Bane,

  When its shafts smite — while yet its bow is twanging —

  Have each their mark and sign, some ghastly stain;

  And this was thine, O War! of hate and pain

  Thou loathèd slave! I saw all shapes of death,

  And ministered to many, o’er the plain

  While carnage in the sunbeam’s warmth did seethe,

  Till Twilight o’er the east wove her serenest wreath.

  XVIII

  The few who yet survived, resolute and firm,

  Around me fought. At the decline of day,

  Winding above the mountain’s snowy term,

  New banners shone; they quivered in the ray

  Of the sun’s unseen orb; ere night the array

  Of fresh troops hemmed us in — of those brave bands

  I soon survived alone — and now I lay

  Vanquished and faint, the grasp of bloody hands

  I felt, and saw on high the glare of falling brands,

  XIX

  When on my foes a sudden terror came,

  And they fled, scattering. — Lo! with reinless speed

  A black Tartarian horse of giant frame,

  Comes trampling over the dead; the living bleed

  Beneath the hoofs of that tremendous steed,

  On which, like to an Angel, robed in white,

  Sate one waving a sword; the hosts recede

  And fly, as through their ranks, with awful might

  Sweeps in the shadow of eve that Phantom swift and bright;

  XX

  And its path made a solitude. I rose

  And marked its coming; it relaxed its course

  As it approached me, and the wind that flows

  Through night bore accents to mine ear whose force

  Might create smiles in death. The Tartar horse

  Paused, and I saw the shape its might which swayed,

  And heard her musical pants, like the sweet source

  Of waters in the desert, as she said,

  ‘Mount with me, Laon, now’ — I rapidly obeyed.

  XXI

  Then, ‘Away! away!’ she cried, and stretched her sword

  As ‘t were a scourge over the courser’s head,

  And lightly shook the reins. We spake no word,

  But like the vapor of the tempest fled

  Over the plain; her dark hair was dispread

  Lik
e the pine’s locks upon the lingering blast;

  Over mine eyes its shadowy strings it spread

  Fitfully, and the hills and streams fled fast,

  As o’er their glimmering forms the steed’s broad shadow passed.

  XXII

  And his hoofs ground the rocks to fire and dust,

  His strong sides made the torrents rise in spray,

  And turbulence, as of a whirlwind’s gust,

  Surrounded us; — and still away, away,

  Through the desert night we sped, while she alway

  Gazed on a mountain which we neared, whose crest,

  Crowned with a marble ruin, in the ray

  Of the obscure stars gleamed; its rugged breast

  The steed strained up, and then his impulse did arrest.

  XXIII

  A rocky hill which overhung the Ocean: —

  From that lone ruin, when the steed that panted

  Paused, might be heard the murmur of the motion

  Of waters, as in spots forever haunted

  By the choicest winds of Heaven which are enchanted

  To music by the wand of Solitude,

  That wizard wild, — and the far tents implanted

  Upon the plain, be seen by those who stood

  Thence marking the dark shore of Ocean’s curvèd flood.

  XXIV

  One moment these were heard and seen — another

  Passed; and the two who stood beneath that night

  Each only heard or saw or felt the other.

  As from the lofty steed she did alight,

  Cythna (for, from the eyes whose deepest light

  Of love and sadness made my lips feel pale

  With influence strange of mournfullest delight,

  My own sweet Cythna looked) with joy did quail,

  And felt her strength in tears of human weakness fail.

  XXV

  And for a space in my embrace she rested,

  Her head on my unquiet heart reposing,

  While my faint arms her languid frame invested;

  At length she looked on me, and, half unclosing

  Her tremulous lips, said, ‘Friend, thy bands were losing

  The battle, as I stood before the King

  In bonds. I burst them then, and, swiftly choosing

  The time, did seize a Tartar’s sword, and spring

  Upon his horse, and swift as on the whirlwind’s wing

  XXVI

  ‘Have thou and I been borne beyond pursuer,

  And we are here.’ Then, turning to the steed,

  She pressed the white moon on his front with pure

  And rose-like lips, and many a fragrant weed

  From the green ruin plucked that he might feed;

  But I to a stone seat that Maiden led,

  And, kissing her fair eyes, said, ‘Thou hast need

  Of rest,’ and I heaped up the courser’s bed

  In a green mossy nook, with mountain flowers dispread.

  XXVII

  Within that ruin, where a shattered portal

  Looks to the eastern stars — abandoned now

  By man to be the home of things immortal,

  Memories, like awful ghosts which come and go,

  And must inherit all he builds below

  When he is gone — a hall stood; o’er whose roof

  Fair clinging weeds with ivy pale did grow,

  Clasping its gray rents with a verdurous woof,

  A hanging dome of leaves, a canopy moon-proof.

  XXVIII

  The autumnal winds, as if spell-bound, had made

  A natural couch of leaves in that recess,

  Which seasons none disturbed; but, in the shade

  Of flowering parasites, did Spring love to dress

  With their sweet blooms the wintry loneliness

  Of those dead leaves, shedding their stars whene’er

  The wandering wind her nurslings might caress;

  Whose intertwining fingers ever there

  Made music wild and soft that filled the listening air.

  XXIX

  We know not where we go, or what sweet dream

  May pilot us through caverns strange and fair

  Of far and pathless passion, while the stream

  Of life our bark doth on its whirlpools bear,

  Spreading swift wings as sails to the dim air;

  Nor should we seek to know, so the devotion

  Of love and gentle thoughts be heard still there

  Louder and louder from the utmost Ocean

  Of universal life, attuning its commotion.

  XXX

  To the pure all things are pure! Oblivion wrapped

  Our spirits, and the fearful overthrow

  Of public hope was from our being snapped,

  Though linkèd years had bound it there; for now

  A power, a thirst, a knowledge, which below

  All thoughts, like light beyond the atmosphere

  Clothing its clouds with grace, doth ever flow,

  Came on us, as we sate in silence there,

  Beneath the golden stars of the clear azure air; —

  XXXI

  In silence which doth follow talk that causes

  The baffled heart to speak with sighs and tears,

  When wildering passion swalloweth up the pauses

  Of inexpressive speech; — the youthful years

  Which we together passed, their hopes and fears,

  The blood itself which ran within our frames,

  That likeness of the features which endears

  The thoughts expressed by them, our very names,

  And all the wingèd hours which speechless memory claims,

  XXXII

  Had found a voice; and ere that voice did pass,

  The night grew damp and dim, and, through a rent

  Of the ruin where we sate, from the morass

  A wandering Meteor by some wild wind sent

  Hung high in the green dome, to which it lent

  A faint and pallid lustre; while the song

  Of blasts, in which its blue hair quivering bent,

  Strewed strangest sounds the moving leaves among;

  A wondrous light, the sound as of a spirit’s tongue.

  XXXIII

  The Meteor showed the leaves on which we sate,

  And Cythna’s glowing arms, and the thick ties

  Of her soft hair which bent with gathered weight

  My neck near hers; her dark and deepening eyes,

  Which, as twin phantoms of one star that lies

  O’er a dim well move though the star reposes,

  Swam in our mute and liquid ecstasies;

  Her marble brow, and eager lips, like roses,

  With their own fragrance pale, which Spring but half uncloses.

  XXXIV

  The Meteor to its far morass returned.

  The beating of our veins one interval

  Made still; and then I felt the blood that burned

  Within her frame mingle with mine, and fall

  Around my heart like fire; and over all

  A mist was spread, the sickness of a deep

  And speechless swoon of joy, as might befall

  Two disunited spirits when they leap

  In union from this earth’s obscure and fading sleep.

  XXXV

  Was it one moment that confounded thus

  All thought, all sense, all feeling, into one

  Unutterable power, which shielded us

  Even from our own cold looks, when we had gone

  Into a wide and wild oblivion

  Of tumult and of tenderness? or now

  Had ages, such as make the moon and sun,

  The seasons, and mankind their changes know,

  Left fear and time unfelt by us alone below?

  XXXVI

  I know not. What are kisses whose fire clasps

  The failing heart in languishment, or limb

  Tw
ined within limb? or the quick dying gasps

  Of the life meeting, when the faint eyes swim

  Through tears of a wide mist boundless and dim,

  In one caress? What is the strong control

  Which leads the heart that dizzy steep to climb

  Where far over the world those vapors roll

  Which blend two restless frames in one reposing soul?

  XXXVII

  It is the shadow which doth float unseen,

  But not unfelt, o’er blind mortality,

  Whose divine darkness fled not from that green

  And lone recess, where lapped in peace did lie

  Our linkèd frames, till, from the changing sky

  That night and still another day had fled;

  And then I saw and felt. The moon was high,

  And clouds, as of a coming storm, were spread

  Under its orb, — loud winds were gathering overhead.

  XXXVIII

  Cythna’s sweet lips seemed lurid in the moon,

  Her fairest limbs with the night wind were chill,

  And her dark tresses were all loosely strewn

  O’er her pale bosom; all within was still,

  And the sweet peace of joy did almost fill

  The depth of her unfathomable look;

  And we sate calmly, though that rocky hill

  The waves contending in its caverns strook,

  For they foreknew the storm, and the gray ruin shook.

  XXXIX

  There we unheeding sate in the communion

  Of interchangèd vows, which, with a rite

  Of faith most sweet and sacred, stamped our union.

  Few were the living hearts which could unite

  Like ours, or celebrate a bridal night

  With such close sympathies, for they had sprung

  From linkèd youth, and from the gentle might

  Of earliest love, delayed and cherished long,

  Which common hopes and fears made, like a tempest, strong.

  XL

  And such is Nature’s law divine that those

  Who grow together cannot choose but love,

  If faith or custom do not interpose,

  Or common slavery mar what else might move

  All gentlest thoughts. As in the sacred grove

  Which shades the springs of Æthiopian Nile,

  That living tree which, if the arrowy dove

  Strike with her shadow, shrinks in fear awhile,

  But its own kindred leaves clasps while the sunbeams smile,

  XLI

  And clings to them when darkness may dissever

  The close caresses of all duller plants

  Which bloom on the wide earth; — thus we forever

  Were linked, for love had nursed us in the haunts

  Where knowledge from its secret source enchants

  Young hearts with the fresh music of its springing,

  Ere yet its gathered flood feeds human wants

  As the great Nile feeds Egypt, — ever flinging