The Prose Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley, Vol. 2 [of 2]Shelley, Percy Bysshe
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The Prose Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley, Vol. 2 [of 2]
Shelley, Percy Bysshe
English prose literature
scatter spangles through the rare and rayless atmosphere.
Such strange scenes of chaotic confusion and harrowing sublimity,
surrounding and shutting in the vale, added to the delights of its
secure and voluptuous tranquillity. No spectator could have refused to
believe that some spirit of great intelligence and power had hallowed
these wild and beautiful solitudes to a deep and solemn mystery.
The immediate effect of such a scene, suddenly presented to the
contemplation of mortal eyes, is seldom the subject of authentic
record. The coldest slave of custom cannot fail to recollect some few
moments in which the breath of spring or the crowding clouds of sunset,
with the pale moon shining through their fleecy skirts, or the song of
some lonely bird perched on the only tree of an unfrequented heath,
has awakened the touch of nature. And they were Arabians who entered
the valley of Bethzatanai; men who idolized nature and the God of
nature; to whom love and lofty thoughts, and the apprehensions of an
uncorrupted spirit, were sustenance and life. Thus securely excluded
from an abhorred world, all thought of its judgment was cancelled by
the rapidity of their fervid imaginations. They ceased to acknowledge,
or deigned not to advert to, the distinctions with which the majority
of base and vulgar minds control the longings and struggles of the soul
towards its place of rest. A new and sacred fire was kindled in their
hearts and sparkled in their eyes. Every gesture, every feature, the
minutest action, was modelled to beneficence and beauty by the holy
inspiration that had descended on their searching spirits. The epidemic
transport communicated itself through every heart with the rapidity of
a blast from heaven. They were already disembodied spirits; they were
already the inhabitants of paradise. To live, to breathe, to move, was
itself a sensation of immeasurable transport. Every new contemplation
of the condition of his nature brought to the happy enthusiast an
added measure of delight, and impelled to every organ, where mind is
united with external things, a keener and more exquisite perception of
all that they contain of lovely and divine. To love, to be beloved,
suddenly became an insatiable famine of his nature, which the wide
circle of the universe, comprehending beings of such inexhaustible
variety and stupendous magnitude of excellence appeared too narrow and
confined to satiate.
Alas, that these visitings of the spirit of life should fluctuate and
pass away! That the moments when the human mind is commensurate with
all that it can conceive of excellent and powerful, should not endure
with its existence and survive its most momentous change! But the
beauty of a vernal sunset, with its overhanging curtains of empurpled
cloud, is rapidly dissolved, to return at some unexpected period, and
spread an alleviating melancholy over the dark vigils of despair.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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