Page:Prometheus Bound (Bevan 1902).djvu/55



O holy sky! and ye, swift-winged winds!

All fountains of all rivers! Thou, that rollest

Laughter innumerable of ripple and wave,

O Sea, behold me! Mother of all things. Earth,

Behold me! Thou, great Sun, that seest all,

Bear record what I suffer from my peers.

Look with what rife torment riven,

Saw'd with agony, I am given

A race to run of measureless years.

For the Lord of the Blessed new-arisen

Binds me fast in a bitter prison,

A bond that shames and sears.

Throes that I have, that I apprehend,

Both I groan for, and ask what end,

What end to my pain appears!

Nay, my words wander: nothing can befall

But I have known it long ago. No pang

Comes unfamiliar. Wisest is to bear

The allotted burden with what ease may be,