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Upon its own producer, forthwith touch'd

The whole enormous matter into life. Upon that very hour, our parentage, The Heavens and the Earth, were manifest:

Then thou first-born, and we the giant


Found ourselves ruling new and beauteous realms.

Now comes the pain of truth, to whom 'tis pain;

O folly for to bear all naked truths, And to envisage circumstance, all calm, That is the top of sovereignty. Mark well!

As Heaven and Earth are fairer, fairer far

Than Chaos and blank Darkness, though once chiefs;

And as we show beyond that Heaven and Earth

In form 'and shape compact and beautiful,

In will, in action free, companionship, And thousand other signs of purer life; So on our heels a fresh perfection treads, A power more strong in beauty, born

of us

And fated to excel us, as we pass
In glory that old Darkness: nor are we
Thereby more conquer'd, than by us the

Of shapeless Chaos. Say, doth the dull soil

Quarrel with the proud forests it hath fed,

And feedeth still, more comely than itself?

Can it deny the chiefdom of green groves?

Or shall the tree be envious of the dove Because it cooeth, and hath snowy wings To wander wherewithal and find itsjoys? We are such forest-trees, and our fair boughs

Have bred forth, not pale solitary doves, But eagles golden-feather'd, who do


Above us in their beauty, and must reign
In right thereof; for 'tis the eternal law
That first in beauty should be first in

Yea, by that law, another race may drive
Our conquerors to mourn as we do now.
Have ye beheld the young God of the
My dispossessor? Have ye seen his face?
Have ye beheld his chariot, foam'd along

By noble winged creatures he hath made?

I saw him on the calmed waters scud, With such a glow of beauty in his eyes, That it enforc'd me to bid sad farewell To all my empire: farewell sad I took, And hither came, to see how dolorous fate

Had wrought upon ye; and how I might best

Give consolation in this woe extreme. Receive the truth, and let it be your balm."

Whether through poz'd conviction, or disdain,

They guarded silence, when Oceanus Left murmuring, what deepest thought can tell?

none answer'd for a

But so it was, space, Save one whom none regarded, Cly


And yet she answer'd not, only complain'd,

With hectic lips, and eyes up-looking mild,

Thus wording timidly among the fierce: "O Father, I am here the simplest voice,

And all my knowledge is that joy is gone,
And this thing woe crept in among our
There to remain for ever, as I fear:
I would not bode of evil, if I thought
So weak a creature could turn off the help
Which by just right should come of
mighty Gods;

Yet let me tell my sorrow, let me tell
Of what I heard, and how it made me

And know that we had parted from all hope.

I stood upon a shore, a pleasant shore, Where a sweet clime was breathed from a land

Of fragrance, quietness, and trees, and flowers.

Full of calm joy it was, as I of grief; Too full of joy and soft delicious warmth;

So that I felt a movement in my heart To chide, and to reproach that solitude With songs of misery, music of our woes; And sat me down, and took a mouthed shell And murmur'd into it, and made melody

O melody no more! for while I sang,

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"Or shall we listen to the over-wise, Or to the over-foolish giant, Gods? Not thunderbolt on thunderbolt, till all That rebel Jove's whole armory were spent,

Not world on world upon these shoulders piled,

Could agonize me more than baby-words In midst of this dethronement horrible. Speak! roar! shout! yell! ye sleepy Titans all.

Do ye forget the blows, the buffets vile? Are ye not smitten by a youngling arm? Dost thou forget, sham Monarch of the Waves,

Thy scalding in the seas? What, have I rous'd

Your spleens with so few simple words as these?

O joy! for now I see ye are not lost :
O joy! for now I see a thousand eyes
Wide glaring for revenge!"-As this he

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Saturn sat near the Mother of the Gods,
In whose face was no joy, though all the
Gave from their hollow throats the name
of "Saturn!"


THUS in alternate uproar and sad peace,
Amazed were those Titans utterly.
O leave them, Muse! O leave them to
their woes ;

For thou art weak to sing such tumults dire:

A solitary sorrow best befits

Thy lips, and antheming a lonely grief. Leave them, O Muse! for thou anon wilt find

Many a fallen old Divinity

Wandering in vain about bewildered shores. Meantime touch piously the Delphic harp,

And not a wind of heaven but will breathe

In aid soft warble from the Dorian flute; For lo! 'tis for the Father of all verse. Flush every thing that hath a vermeil hue,

Let the rose glow intense and warm the air,

And let the clouds of even and of morn Float in voluptuous fleeces o'er the hills; Let the red wine within the goblet boil, Cold as a bubbling well; let faint-lipp'd shells,

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Lift up their heads, as still the whisper pass'd. [fore, Goddess! I have beheld those eyes beAnd their eternal calm, and all that face, Or I have dream'd."-" Yes," said the supreme shape, "Thou hast dream'd of me; and awaking up

Didst find a lyre all golden by thy side, Whose strings touch'd by thy fingers, all the vast Unwearied ear of the whole universe Listen'd in pain and pleasure at the birth Of such new tuneful wonder. Is't not strange

That thou shouldst weep, so gifted? Tell me, youth,

What sorrow thou canst feel; for I am sad

When thou dost shed a tear explain thy griefs

To one who in this lonely isle hath been The watcher of thy sleep and hours of life,

From the young day when first thy infant hand

Pluck'd witless the weak flowers, till thine arm

Could bend that bow heroic to all times. Show thy heart's secret to an ancient Power

Who hath forsaken old and sacred thrones

For prophecies of thee, and for the sake Of loveliness new born."-Apollo then, With sudden scrutiny and gloomless eyes, Thus answer'd, while his white melodious throat Throbb'd with the syllables.-" Mnemosyne! Thy name is on my tongue, I know not how;

Why should I tell thee what thou so well seest?

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