Page:Prometheus Bound (Bevan 1902).djvu/129

 Of a flame two-edgèd! let all the air

Be lash'd with levin, with passion grieved

Of winds exasperate, earth up-heaved

From her roots by the inly-prison'd flaw!

Let him mingle a welter of bitter brine,

The froth of the seas, with the paths divine

Of the heavenly stars! down quick let him fling me

Where the face of the day is blotted and blacken'd,

By a might that masters, and twirls unslacken'd!

To Death can he nowise bring me.

Nay, here are heats of a mind amiss,

And speeches verily heard sick-brain'd!

Is there any madness more than this?

Or a temper further in frenzy strain'd?

Ye then, do you as many as grieve

In his sorrow's fellowship, rise and leave

This place, with the speed that ye may forth-faring,