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And to my soul thou art
What he is to himself. Yea, from the first,
Thy words have been celestial light to me!
Still while thou fed'st mine ear with thy discourse,
'Twas as my soul held commune with herself,
As though she found a tongue, and harmonies,
Awaking to the magic of thy voice,
Rang forth response in golden cadences
Yea, 'twas as though a deity discoursed,
The while I dream'd 'twas only I that spake-
And, dreamed I 'twas a deity that spake,
Lo, 'twas myself discoursed! And thus with thee
And me, so one, so blended soul with soul,
My love for thee burns everlastingly !


And I am everlastingly with thee.

As doth the mellow roseate shine
Of the departed sun
Stream up behind yon dusky Caucasus,
Steeping my spirit in delightful calm,
Absent, yet with me everlastingly;
So have my powers gain'd strength with ev'ry breath
That I inhaled of thy celestial air.
And they presume,
These haughty dwellers on Olympus, they,
To school and lord it o'er my powers at will ?
No; they are mine, and mine shall be their use.
Not one step will I move, this way or that,
No, though the chief of all the gods command !

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Thou wert content to serve, in order thus
To make thee worthy of thy liberty.

Nor would I barter that
To be the bird of thunder,
And haughtily in servile talons clutch
My master's levin bolts.

Thy hates unjust!
Unto the gods, as lot, Duration fell,
And Might, and Love, and Wisdom.

All these they have,
Yes, but not they alone. I, too, endure
As well as they. We are immortal all!
Of my beginning memory have I none,
No impulse or desire have I to end,
Nor do I see the end.
Therefore am I immortal, for I am!
And Wisdom-

[Leading MINERVA round among the statues.
Look on these brows!
Hath not my finger stamp'd and moulded them ?
And the strong heart within this bosom swells,
To grapple with the dangers that besiege
The children of my hand on every side, [Stops before the statue of a
And thou, Pandora,

Sacred receptacle of every gift
That is to be desired
Beneath the spacious heaven,
Upon the boundless earth,
All that of throbbing joy e'er gladden'd me,
Or in cool umbrage e'er
With freshness laved my soul.
Type of all soft and delicate desires,
Which love for the bright sun, spring's rapturous flush,
The low, soft music of the murmuring sea,
Have fed, and fann'd, and foster'd in my breast,
Reflex of all that ever I have known
Of pure celestial radiance, and the calm
Delighted trances of a soul at peace-
The all-all-my Pandora!

Jove hath engaged to clothe them all with life,
So thou accept the tenders that he makes.

'Twas this alone that made me hesitate.
But I should be a vassal—and, like all,
Avow the sway of yonder Thunderer !
No! By their lifelessness though fettered now,
Yet are they free, and I_I feel their freedom !

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(Scene changes to a valley at the foot of Olympus.)

Look downwards, Jove,
Upon my world í It lives!
In mine own image have I moulded it-
A race that may be like unto myself,

To suffer, weep, enjoy, and to rejoice ; And, like myself, unheeding all of thee ! [The human race are seen scattered up and down the valley. Some are

climbing trees and plucking fruit, some bathing in the river, some running races in the meadows; girls gather flowers and twine chaplets.

[Enter to PROMETHEUS a man bearing a young tree,

which he has pulled up by the roots.


Here is the tree, as you desired.


How got'st it from the ground?


With this sharp stone I sever'd it
Close by the roots.

Off' with the branches first!
Now thrust it down aslant into the ground,
Then place this portion here across it—so!
Now bind them at the top! Now other two
Behind these, and then one across the top.
Next bring the branches downwards from above,
Until they reach the ground; entwine them close,
Then turf all round, and branches over these,
And pile them thick, until that neither sun,
Nor rain, nor wind, can penetrate within.
Thou hast, my son, a shelter and a hut.


Thanks, father, thanks—a thousand thanks! But say,
Are all my brethren to have right to live
Within my hut?

No! Thou hast built it, and it is thine own.
Share it thou may'st with whomsoe'er thou wilt.
Who would have huts must build them for themselves.

[Erit. [Enter two men.

FIRST MAN. Thou shalt not have a morsel of my goats, They are all mine!



All yester day
And night I scrambled o'er the mountain side,
Caught them alive by dint of toil and sweat,
Watch'd them till dawn, and here have penn'd them up
With stones and branches.

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He's stolen my goat! Blood trickles from my head.
He dash'd me down against this stone.

Take some of yonder lichen from the tree,
And lay it on the wound!


So, father dear!
The pain is gone already.


Go, wash thee!


And my goat ?

Leave him alone!
If his hand be, my son, 'gainst every'man,
The hand of every man will be 'gainst him !

[Erit man, and enter PANDORA.

PROMETHEUS. What aileth thee, my daughter ?

Why thus moved ?

PANDORA. My father! Ah, what I beheld, my

father! What I have felt!


PANDORA. Oh, my poor Mira!

PROMETHEUS. What has befallen her ?


Oh, feelings without name!
I saw her go into the forest brake,
Where we are wont to pluck our garland flowers ;
I followed her, and, oh!
As from the hill I came,
I saw her in the vale beneath
Lie stretch'd along the ground.
It chanced, Arbar was in the wood.
He clasp'd her close within his arms,
He raised her from the dewy grass,
And with her sank adown.
Her lovely head fell back,
He kiss'd it o'er and o'er,
And hung upon her lips, as though
He'd breathe his soul through hers.
Grief fillid my heart, and I
Sprang forward with a scream.
My scream brought life into her limbs ;
Arbar withdrew; she started to her feet,
And ah! with eyes that seem'd to melt,
She fell upon my neck.
Her bosom beat as it would burst-
Her cheeks were all on fire,
Her lips were parch'd and dry,
Her tears in torrents flow'.

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