Page:Prometheus Bound (Bevan 1902).djvu/68

 With him that now hath anguish. Quick of wing

Pain now alights on this one, now on that.

Thou hast utter'd a word

That our ears have heard

No wise unwilling.

And this my wind-precipitate chair

With light foot leaving, I quit the air,

The birds' pure path, and draw anear

To Earth's rough places, intent to hear

Thy pains to the last fulfilling.

My long way, lo it is overpast,

And I win to thee thus, Prometheus, at last,

This flying creature, whereon I sit,

Guiding by thought, without bridle or bit,

And in these thy troubles, I do thee to know,