Percy Bysshe Shelley

by Percy Bysshe Shelley

  Passed, as when far is heard in some lone dell

  The gathering of a wind among the woods:

  ‘And he is fallen!’ they cry, ‘he who did dwell

  Like famine or the plague, or aught more fell,

  Among our homes, is fallen! the murderer

  Who slaked his thirsting soul, as from a well

  Of blood and tears, with ruin! he is here!

  Sunk in a gulf of scorn from which none may him rear!’

  XXXII

  Then was heard—’He who judged, let him be brought

  To judgment! blood for blood cries from the soil

  On which his crimes have deep pollution wrought!

  Shall Othman only unavenged despoil?

  Shall they, who by the stress of grinding toil

  Wrest from the unwilling earth his luxuries,

  Perish for crime, while his foul blood may boil

  Or creep within his veins at will? Arise!

  And to high Justice make her chosen sacrifice!’

  XXXIII

  ‘What do ye seek? what fear ye?’ then I cried,

  Suddenly starting forth, ‘that ye should shed

  The blood of Othman? if your hearts are tried

  In the true love of freedom, cease to dread

  This one poor lonely man; beneath Heaven spread

  In purest light above us all, through Earth —

  Maternal Earth, who doth her sweet smiles shed

  For all — let him go free, until the worth

  Of human nature win from these a second birth.

  XXXIV

  ‘What call ye justice? Is there one who ne’er

  In secret thought has wished another’s ill?

  Are ye all pure? Let those stand forth who hear

  And tremble not. Shall they insult and kill,

  If such they be? their mild eyes can they fill

  With the false anger of the hypocrite?

  Alas, such were not pure! The chastened will

  Of virtue sees that justice is the light

  Of love, and not revenge and terror and despite.’

  XXXV

  The murmur of the people, slowly dying,

  Paused as I spake; then those who near me were

  Cast gentle looks where the lone man was lying

  Shrouding his head, which now that infant fair

  Clasped on her lap in silence; through the air

  Sobs were then heard, and many kissed my feet

  In pity’s madness, and to the despair

  Of him whom late they cursed a solace sweet

  His very victims brought — soft looks and speeches meet.

  XXXVI

  Then to a home for his repose assigned,

  Accompanied by the still throng, he went

  In silence, where to soothe his rankling mind

  Some likeness of his ancient state was lent;

  And if his heart could have been innocent

  As those who pardoned him, he might have ended

  His days in peace; but his straight lips were bent,

  Men said, into a smile which guile portended, —

  A sight with which that child, like hope with fear, was blended.

  XXXVII

  ‘T was midnight now, the eve of that great day

  Whereon the many nations, at whose call

  The chains of earth like mist melted away,

  Decreed to hold a sacred Festival,

  A rite to attest the equality of all

  Who live. So to their homes, to dream or wake,

  All went. The sleepless silence did recall

  Laone to my thoughts, with hopes that make

  The flood recede from which their thirst they seek to slake.

  XXXVIII

  The dawn flowed forth, and from its purple fountains

  I drank those hopes which make the spirit quail,

  As to the plain between the misty mountains

  And the great City, with a countenance pale,

  I went. It was a sight which might avail

  To make men weep exulting tears, for whom

  Now first from human power the reverend veil

  Was torn, to see Earth from her general womb

  Pour forth her swarming sons to a fraternal doom:

  XXXIX

  To see, far glancing in the misty morning,

  The signs of that innumerable host;

  To hear one sound of many made, the warning

  Of Earth to Heaven from its free children tossed;

  While the eternal hills, and the sea lost

  In wavering light, and, starring the blue sky,

  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

&n
bsp; 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 n
o 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