Page:Keats - Poetical Works, DeWolfe, 1884.djvu/224



He stretch'd himself in grief and radiance faint. There as he lay, the Heaven with its stars Look'd down on him with pity, and the voice Of Cœlus, from the universal space, Thus whisper'd low and solemn in his ear: "O brightest of my children dear, earth-born And sky-engender'd, Son of Mysteries! All unrevealed even to the powers Which met at thy creating! at whose joys And palpitations sweet, and pleasures soft, I, Cœlus, wonder how they came and whence; And at the fruits thereof what shapes they be, Distinct, and visible; symbols divine, Manifestations of that beauteous life Diffused unseen throughout eternal space; Of these new-form'd art thou, oh brightest child! Of these, thy brethren and the Goddesses! There is sad feud among ye, and rebellion Of son against his sire. I saw him fall, I saw my firstborn tumbled from his throne! To me his arms were spread, to me his voice Found way from forth the thunders round his head! Pale wox I, and in vapors hid my face. Art thou, too, near suth doom? vague fear there is: For I have seen my sons most unlike Gods. Divine ye were created, and divine In sad demeanor, solemn, undisturb'd, Unruffled, like high Gods, ye lived and ruled: Now I behold in you fear, hope, and wrath; Actions of rage and passion: even as I see them, on the mortal world beneath, In men who die.—This is the grief, O Son!