Percy Bysshe Shelley

by Percy Bysshe Shelley

  ‘“Men say that they themselves have heard and seen,

  Or known from others who have known such things,

  A Shade, a Form, which Earth and Heaven between

  Wields an invisible rod — that Priests and Kings,

  Custom, domestic sway, ay, all that brings

  Man’s free-born soul beneath the oppressor’s heel,

  Are his strong ministers, and that the stings

  Of death will make the wise his vengeance feel,

  Though truth and virtue arm their hearts with tenfold steel.

  VIII

  ‘“And it is said this Power will punish wrong;

  Yes, add despair to crime, and pain to pain!

  And deepest hell, and deathless snakes among,

  Will bind the wretch on whom is fixed a stain,

  Which, like a plague, a burden, and a bane,

  Clung to him while he lived; for love and hate,

  Virtue and vice, they say, are difference vain —

  The will of strength is right. This human state

  Tyrants, that they may rule, with lies thus desolate.

  IX

  ‘“Alas, what strength? Opinion is more frail

  Than yon dim cloud now fading on the moon

  Even while we gaze, though it awhile avail

  To hide the orb of truth — and every throne

  Of Earth or Heaven, though shadow, rests thereon,

  One shape of many names: — for this ye plough

  The barren waves of Ocean — hence each one

  Is slave or tyrant; all betray and bow,

  Command, or kill, or fear, or wreak or suffer woe.

  X

  ‘“Its names are each a sign which maketh holy

  All power — ay, the ghost, the dream, the shade

  Of power — lust, falsehood, hate, and pride, and folly;

  The pattern whence all fraud and wrong is made,

  A law to which mankind has been betrayed;

  And human love is as the name well known

  Of a dear mother whom the murderer laid

  In bloody grave, and, into darkness thrown,

  Gathered her wildered babes around him as his own.

  XI

  ‘“O Love, who to the hearts of wandering men

  Art as the calm to Ocean’s weary waves!

  Justice, or Truth, or Joy! those only can

  From slavery and religion’s labyrinth-caves

  Guide us, as one clear star the seaman saves.

  To give to all an equal share of good,

  To track the steps of Freedom, though through graves

  She pass, to suffer all in patient mood,

  To weep for crime though stained with thy friend’s dearest blood,

  XII

  ‘“To feel the peace of self-contentment’s lot,

  To own all sympathies, and outrage none,

  And in the inmost bowers of sense and thought,

  Until life’s sunny day is quite gone down,

  To sit and smile with Joy, or, not alone,

  To kiss salt tears from the worn cheek of Woe;

  To live as if to love and live were one, —

  This is not faith or law, nor those who bow

  To thrones on Heaven or Earth such destiny may know.

  XIII

  ‘“But children near their parents tremble now,

  Because they must obey; one rules another,

  And, as one Power rules both high and low,

  So man is made the captive of his brother,

  And Hate is throned on high with Fear his mother

  Above the Highest; and those fountain-cells,

  Whence love yet flowed when faith had choked all other,

  Are darkened — Woman as the bond-slave dwells

  Of man, a slave; and life is poisoned in its wells.

  XIV

  ‘“Man seeks for gold in mines that he may weave

  A lasting chain for his own slavery;

  In fear and restless care that he may live

  He toils for others who must ever be

  The joyless thralls of like captivity;

  He murders, for his chiefs delight in ruin;

  He builds the altar that its idol’s fee

  May be his very blood; he is pursuing —

  Oh, blind and willing wretch! — his own obscure undoing.

  XV

  ‘“Woman! — she is his slave, she has become

  A thing I weep to speak — the child of scorn,

  The outcast of a desolated home;

  Falsehood, and fear, and toil, like waves have worn

  Channels upon her cheek, which smiles adorn

  As calm decks the false Ocean: — well ye know

  What Woman is, for none of Woman born

  Can choose but drain the bitter dregs of woe,

  Which ever from the oppressed to the oppressors flow.

  XVI

  ‘“This need not be; ye might arise, and will

  That gold should lose its power, and thrones their glory;

  That love, which none may bind, be free to fill

  The world, like light; and evil faith, grown hoary

  With crime, be quenched and die. — Yon promontory

  Even now eclipses the descending moon! —

  Dungeons and palaces are transitory —

  High temples fade like vapor — Man alone

  Remains, whose will has power when all beside is gone.

  XVII

  ‘“Let all be free and equal! — from your hearts

  I feel an echo; through my inmost frame

  Like sweetest sound, seeking its mate, it darts.

  Whence come ye, friends? Alas, I cannot name

  All that I read of sorrow, toil and shame

  On your worn faces; as in legends old

  Which make immortal the disastrous fame

  Of conquerors and impostors false and bold,

  The discord of your hearts I in your looks behold.

  XVIII

  ‘“Whence come ye, friends? from pouring human blood

  Forth on the earth? or bring ye steel and gold,

  That kings may dupe and slay the multitude?

  Or from the famished poor, pale, weak and cold,

  Bear ye the earnings of their toil? unfold!

  Speak! are your hands in slaughter’s sanguine hue

  Stained freshly? have your hearts in guile grown old?

  Know yourselves thus! ye shall be pure as dew,

  And I will be a friend and sister unto you.

  XIX

  ‘“Disguise it not — we have one human heart —

  All mortal thoughts confess a common home;

  Blush not for what may to thyself impart

  Stains of inevitable crime; the doom

  Is this, which has, or may, or must, become

  Thine, and all humankind’s. Ye are the spoil

  Which Time thus marks for the devouring tomb —

  Thou and thy thoughts, and they, and all the toil

  Wherewith ye twine the rings of life’s perpetual coil.

  XX

  ‘“Disguise it not — ye blush for what ye hate,

  And Enmity is sister unto Shame;

  Look on your mind — it is the book of fate —

  Ah! it is dark with many a blazoned name

  Of misery — all are mirrors of the same;

  But the dark fiend who with his iron pen,

  Dipped in scorn’s fiery poison, makes his fame

  Enduring there, would o’er the heads of men

  Pass harmless, if they scorned to make their hearts his den.

  XXI

  ‘“Yes, it is Hate, that shapeless fiendly thing

  Of many names, all evil, some divine,

  Whom self-contempt arms with a mortal sting;

  Which, when the heart its snaky folds entwine,

  Is wasted quite, and when it doth repine

  To gorge such bitt
er prey, on all beside

  It turns with ninefold rage, as with its twine

  When Amphisbæna some fair bird has tied,

  Soon o’er the putrid mass he threats on every side.

  XXII

  ‘“Reproach not thine own soul, but know thyself,

  Nor hate another’s crime, nor loathe thine own.

  It is the dark idolatry of self,

  Which, when our thoughts and actions once are gone,

  Demands that man should weep, and bleed, and groan;

  Oh, vacant expiation! be at rest!

  The past is Death’s, the future is thine own;

  And love and joy can make the foulest breast

  A paradise of flowers, where peace might build her nest.

  XXIII

  ‘“Speak thou! whence come ye?” — A youth made reply, —

  “Wearily, wearily o’er the boundless deep

  We sail; thou readest well the misery

  Told in these faded eyes, but much doth sleep

  Within, which there the poor heart loves to keep,

  Or dare not write on the dishonored brow;

  Even from our childhood have we learned to steep

  The bread of slavery in the tears of woe,

  And never dreamed of hope or refuge until now.

  XXIV

  ‘“Yes — I must speak — my secret should have perished

  Even with the heart it wasted, as a brand

  Fades in the dying flame whose life it cherished,

  But that no human bosom can withstand

  Thee, wondrous Lady, and the mild command

  Of thy keen eyes: — yes, we are wretched slaves,

  Who from their wonted loves and native land

  Are reft, and bear o’er the dividing waves

  The unregarded prey of calm and happy graves.

  XXV

  ‘“We drag afar from pastoral vales the fairest

  Among the daughters of those mountains lone;

  We drag them there where all things best and rarest

  Are stained and trampled; years have come and gone

  Since, like the ship which bears me, I have known

  No thought; but now the eyes of one dear maid

  On mine with light of mutual love have shone —

  She is my life — I am but as the shade

  Of her — a smoke sent up from ashes, soon to fade! —

  XXVI

  ‘“For she must perish in the Tyrant’s hall —

  Alas, alas!” — He ceased, and by the sail

  Sat cowering — but his sobs were heard by all,

  And still before the Ocean and the gale

  The ship fled fast till the stars ‘gan to fail;

  And, round me gathered with mute countenance,

  The Seamen gazed, the Pilot, worn and pale

  With toil, the Captain with gray locks whose glance

  Met mine in restless awe — they stood as in a trance.

  XXVII

  ‘“Recede not! pause not now! thou art grown old,

  But Hope will make thee young, for Hope and Youth

  Are children of one mother, even Love — behold!

  The eternal stars gaze on us! — is the truth

  Within your soul? care for your own, or ruth

  For others’ sufferings? do ye thirst to bear

  A heart which not the serpent Custom’s tooth

  May violate? — be free! and even here,

  Swear to be firm till death!” — they cried, “We swear! we swear!”

  XXVIII

  ‘The very darkness shook, as with a blast

  Of subterranean thunder, at the cry;

  The hollow shore its thousand echoes cast

  Into the night, as if the sea and sky

  And earth rejoiced with new-born liberty,

  For in that name they swore! Bolts were undrawn,

  And on the deck with unaccustomed eye

  The captives gazing stood, and every one

  Shrank as the inconstant torch upon her countenance shone.

  XXIX

  ‘They were earth’s purest children, young and fair,

  With eyes the shrines of unawakened thought,

  And brows as bright as spring or morning, ere

  Dark time had there its evil legend wrought

  In characters of cloud which wither not.

  The change was like a dream to them; but soon

  They knew the glory of their altered lot —

  In the bright wisdom of youth’s breathless noon,

  Sweet talk and smiles and sighs all bosoms did attune.

  XXX

  ‘But one was mute; her cheeks and lips most fair,

  Changing their hue like lilies newly blown

  Beneath a bright acacia’s shadowy hair

  Waved by the wind amid the sunny noon,

  Showed that her soul was quivering; and full soon

  That youth arose, and breathlessly did look

  On her and me, as for some speechless boon;

  I smiled, and both their hands in mine I took,

  And felt a soft delight from what their spirits shook.

  REVOLT OF ISLAM: Canto Ninth

  I

  ‘THAT night we anchored in a woody bay,

  And sleep no more around ns dared to hover

  Than, when all doubt and fear has passed away,

  It shades the couch of some unresting lover

  Whose heart is now at rest; thus night passed over

  In mutual joy; around, a forest grew

  Of poplars and dark oaks, whose shade did cover

  The waning stars pranked in the waters blue,

  And trembled in the wind which from the morning flew.

  II

  ‘The joyous mariners and each free maiden

  Now brought from the deep forest many a bough,

  With woodland spoil most innocently laden;

  Soon wreaths of budding foliage seemed to flow

  Over the mast and sails; the stern and prow

  Were canopied with blooming boughs; the while

  On the slant sun’s path o’er the waves we go

  Rejoicing, like the dwellers of an isle

  Doomed to pursue those waves that cannot cease to smile.

  III

  ‘The many ships spotting the dark blue deep

  With snowy sails, fled fast as ours came nigh,

  In fear and wonder; and on every steep

  Thousands did gaze. They heard the startling cry,

  Like earth’s own voice lifted unconquerably

  To all her children, the unbounded mirth,

  The glorious joy of thy name — Liberty!

  They heard! — As o’er the mountains of the earth

  From peak to peak leap on the beams of morning’s birth,

  IV

  ‘So from that cry over the boundless hills

  Sudden was caught one universal sound,

  Like a volcano’s voice whose thunder fills

  Remotest skies, — such glorious madness found

  A path through human hearts with stream which drowned

  Its struggling fears and cares, dark Custom’s brood;

  They knew not whence it came, but felt around

  A wide contagion poured — they called aloud

  On Liberty — that name lived on the sunny flood.

  V

  ‘We reached the port. Alas! from many spirits

  The wisdom which had waked that cry was fled,

  Like the brief glory which dark Heaven inherits

  From the false dawn, which fades ere it is spread,

  Upon the night’s devouring darkness shed;

  Yet soon bright day will burst — even like a chasm

  Of fire, to burn the shrouds outworn and dead

  Which wrap the world; a wide enthusiasm,

  To cleanse the fevered world as with an earthquake’s spasm!

  VI

  ‘I walked th
rough the great City then, but free

  From shame or fear; those toil-worn mariners

  And happy maidens did encompass me;

  And like a subterranean wind that stirs

  Some forest among caves, the hopes and fears

  From every human soul a murmur strange

  Made as I passed; and many wept with tears

  Of joy and awe, and wingèd thoughts did range,

  And half-extinguished words which prophesied of change.

  VII

  ‘For with strong speech I tore the veil that hid

  Nature, and Truth, and Liberty, and Love, —

  As one who from some mountain’s pyramid

  Points to the unrisen sun! the shades approve

  His truth, and flee from every stream and grove.

  Thus, gentle thoughts did many a bosom fill,

  Wisdom the mail of tried affections wove

  For many a heart, and tameless scorn of ill

  Thrice steeped in molten steel the unconquerable will.

  VIII

  ‘Some said I was a maniac wild and lost;

  Some, that I scarce had risen from the grave

  The Prophet’s virgin bride, a heavenly ghost;

  Some said I was a fiend from my weird cave,

  Who had stolen human shape, and o’er the wave,

  The forest, and the mountain, came; some said

  I was the child of God, sent down to save

  Woman from bonds and death, and on my head

  The burden of their sins would frightfully be laid.

  IX

  ‘But soon my human words found sympathy

  In human hearts; the purest and the best,

  As friend with friend, made common cause with me,

  And they were few, but resolute; the rest,

  Ere yet success the enterprise had blessed,

  Leagued with me in their hearts; their meals, their slumber,

  Their hourly occupations, were possessed

  By hopes which I had armed to overnumber

  Those hosts of meaner cares which life’s strong wings encumber.

  X

  ‘But chiefly women, whom my voice did waken

  From their cold, careless, willing slavery,

  Sought me; one truth their dreary prison has shaken,

  They looked around, and lo! they became free!

  Their many tyrants, sitting desolately

  In slave-deserted halls, could none restrain;

  For wrath’s red fire had withered in the eye

  Whose lightning once was death, — nor fear nor gain

  Could tempt one captive now to lock another’s chain.

  XI

  ‘Those who were sent to bind me wept, and felt

  Their minds outsoar the bonds which clasped them round,

  Even as a waxen shape may waste and melt

  In the white furnace; and a visioned swound,

  A pause of hope and awe, the City bound,