Page:Prometheus Bound, and other poems.djvu/30

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The headlong bolt of thunder breathing flame,

And struck him downward from his eminence

Of boastful exaltation! Through the soul,

It struck him mainly; and his strength was shrunk

To ashes, thunder-blasted. Now, he lies

A helpless trunk supinely, at full length,

Beside the strait of ocean; over-ridden

By roots of Ætna,—high upon whose tops

Hephæstus sits and strikes the flashing ore,

From which the great fire-rivers shall burst away

Hereafter, and devour with savage jaws

The equal plains of fruitful Sicily!—

Such passion he shall boil back in hot darts

Of an insatiate fury and sough of flame,—

Fallen Typhon;—howsoever struck and charred

By Zeus's bolted thunder! But for thee,

Thou art not so unlearned as to need

My teaching—let thy knowledge save thyself.

I quaff the full cup of a present doom,

And wait till Zeus's soul hath quenched its wrath.

Oceanus. Hast thou no knowledge, then, of this, Prometheus—

That words do medicine anger?

Prometheus. If the word

With seasonable softness touch the heart,

And, where the soul is ulcerous, sear it not

With any rudeness.

Oceanus. With a noble aim

To dare as nobly—is there harm in that?

Dost thou discern it? Teach me.

Prometheus. I discern

An empty wish,—and unresultive work.

Oceanus. Then let me bear the harm of punishment!