Fled like a sunny beam; Behind her descended Her billows, unblended With the brackish Dorian stream. On the emerald main Alpheus rushed behind, As an eagle pursuing A dove to its ruin Down the streams of the cloudy wind. IV Under the bowers Where the Ocean Powers Sit on their pearlèd thrones ; Over heaps of unvalued stones; Which amid the streams Weave a network of colored light; And under the caves, Where the shadowy waves Are as green as the forest's night; And the swordfish dark, Under the ocean foam, And up through the rifts Of the mountain clifts They passed to their Dorian home. And now from their fountains In Enna's mountains, Down one vale where the morning basks, Grown single-hearted, They ply their watery tasks. From their cradles steep In the cave of the shelving hill Beneath the Ortygian shore, In the azure sky When they love but live no more. SONG OF PROSERPINE WHILE GATHERING FLOWERS ON THE PLAIN OF ENNA SACRED Goddess, Mother Earth, Thou from whose immortal bosom If with mists of evening dew Thou dost nourish these young flowers Till they grow, in scent and hue, Fairest children of the hours, Song of Proserpine, Published by Mrs. Shelley, 18391. Breathe thine influence most divine HYMN OF APOLLO I THE sleepless Hours who watch me as I lie, Fanning the busy dreams from my dim eyes, Waken me when their Mother, the gray Dawn, Tells them that dreams and that the moon is gone. II Then I arise, and climbing Heaven's blue dome, I walk over the mountains and the waves, Leaving my robe upon the ocean foam; My footsteps pave the clouds with fire; the caves Are filled with my bright presence, and the air III The sunbeams are my shafts, with which I kill Deceit, that loves the night and fears the day; All men who do or even imagine ill Fly me, and from the glory of my ray Good minds and open actions take new might, Hymn of Apollo. Published by Mrs. Shelley, 1824. IV I feed the clouds, the rainbows and the flowers With their ethereal colors; the moon's globe And the pure stars in their eternal bowers Are cinctured with my power as with a robe; Whatever lamps on Earth or Heaven may shine Are portions of one power, which is mine. V I stand at noon upon the peak of Heaven, For grief that I depart they weep and frown. What look is more delightful than the smile With which I soothe them from the western isle ? VI I am the eye with which the Universe HYMN OF PAN I FROM the forests and highlands We come, we come ; From the river-girt islands, vi. 6 their | its, Rossetti. Hymn of Pan. Published by Mrs. Shelley, 1824. Where loud waves are dumb Listening to my sweet pipings. II Liquid Peneus was flowing, Speeded by my sweet pipings. The Sileni, and Sylvans, and Fauns, And the Nymphs of the woods and waves, To the edge of the moist river-lawns, And the brink of the dewy caves, And all that did then attend and follow, Were silent with love, as you now, Apollo, I sang With envy of my sweet pipings. III of the dancing stars, I sang of the dædal Earth, And of Heaven and the giant wars, And Love, and Death, and Birth;- It breaks in our bosom and then we bleed. |