When I was yet a child, and knew not whence My being came, nor where to turn its powers, Up to the sun I bent my wildered eye, As though above, within its glorious orb, There dwelt an ear to listen to my plaint, A heart, like mine, to pity the oppressed. Who gave me succour Against the Titans in their tyrannous might? Who rescued me from death--from slavery? Thou!--thou, my soul, burning with hallowed fire, Thou hast thyself alone achieved it all! Yet didst thou, in thy young simplicity, Glow with misguided thankfulness to him That slumbers on in idlenesse there above! I reverence thee? Wherefore? Hast thou ever Lightened the sorrows of the heavy laden? Thou ever stretch thy hand to still the tears Of the perplexed in spirit? Was it not Almighty Time, and ever-during Fate-- My lords and thine--that shaped and fashioned me Into the MAN I am? Belike it was thy dream That I should hate life--fly to wastes and wilds, For that the buds of visionary thought Did not all ripen into goodly flowers? Here do I sit and mould Men after mine own image-- A race that may be like unto myself, To suffer, weep; to enjoy, and to rejoice; And, like myself, unheeding all of thee! The myth of Prometheus reveals the very dam of all dragons,--the mere terrorism of nature which paralysed the energies of man. Man's first combat was to be with his own quailing heart. Apollo driving back the Argives to their ships with the image of the Gorgon's head on Jove's shield is Homer's picture of the fears that unnerved heroes:-- Phoebus himself the rushing battle led; A veil of clouds involved his radiant head: High held before him, Jove's enormous shield Portentous shone, and shaded all the field: Vulcan to Jove th' immortal gift consigned, To scatter hosts, and terrify mankind.... Deep horror seizes ev'ry Grecian breast, Their force is humbled, and their fear confest. So flies a herd of oxen, scattered wide, No swain to guard them, and no day to guide, When two fell lions from the mountain come, And spread the carnage thro' the shady gloom.... The Grecians gaze around with wild despair, Confused, and weary all their pow'rs with prayer. [241]