_Prometheus (alone)._ O holy Æther, and swift-wingèd Winds, And River-wells, and laughter innumerous Of yon sea-waves! Earth, mother of us all, And all-viewing cyclic Sun, I cry on you,-- Behold me, a god, what I endure from gods! Behold, with throe on throe, How, wasted by this woe, I wrestle down the myriad years of time! Behold, how fast around me, The new King of the happy ones sublime Has flung the chain he forged, has shamed and bound me! Woe, woe! to-day's woe and the coming morrow's I cover with one groan. And where is found me A limit to these sorrows? And yet what word do I say? I have foreknown Clearly all things that should be; nothing done Comes sudden to my soul; and I must bear What is ordained with patience, being aware Necessity doth front the universe With an invincible gesture. Yet this curse Which strikes me now, I find it hard to brave In silence or in speech. Because I gave Honour to mortals, I have yoked my soul To this compelling fate. Because I stole The secret fount of fire, whose bubbles went Over the ferule's brim, and manward sent Art's mighty means and perfect rudiment, That sin I expiate in this agony, Hung here in fetters, 'neath the blanching sky. Ah, ah me! what a sound, What a fragrance sweeps up from a pinion unseen Of a god, or a mortal, or nature between, Sweeping up to this rock where the earth has her bound, To have sight of my pangs or some guerdon obtain. Lo, a god in the anguish, a god in the chain! The god, Zeus hateth sore And his gods hate again, As many as tread on his glorified floor, Because I loved mortals too much evermore. Alas me! what a murmur and motion I hear, As of birds flying near! And the air undersings The light stroke of their wings-- And all life that approaches I wait for in fear. _Chorus of Sea Nymphs, 1st Strophe._ Fear nothing! our troop Floats lovingly up With a quick-oaring stroke Of wings steered to the rock, Having softened the soul of our father below. For the gales of swift-bearing have sent me a sound, And the clank of the iron, the malleted blow, Smote down the profound Of my caverns of old, And struck the red light in a blush from my brow,-- Till I sprang up unsandaled, in haste to behold, And rushed forth on my chariot of wings manifold. _Prometheus._ Alas me!--alas me! Ye offspring of Tethys who bore at her breast Many children, and eke of Oceanus, he Coiling still around earth with perpetual unrest! Behold me and see How transfixed with the fang Of a fetter I hang On the high-jutting rocks of this fissure and keep An uncoveted watch o'er the world and the deep.