Page:Prometheus Bound (Webster 1866).djvu/43

 And knewst thou not the puny helpless kind,

Idle as dreams,

Which cramps that people to the light left blind?

No, never can what Zeus has predesigned

Be crossed by mortal's schemes.

And this, Prometheus, have we surely known

Seeing thy mournful fate. And now the tone

Of a far other song seems to us sped

Than the bridal strain

We sang around the bath, around the bed,

When Hesione our sister with thee wed,

Whom thy rich gifts did gain.

To what land am I come? To what people? And how

Shall I name him I see made fast to these rocks,

Left bare to the storms? To atone what sin

Dost thou perish thus?—Oh say to what spot

Of earth I have wandered forlorn.

Alas! Woe! Woe!

Me miserable does the gadfly once more sting.

Lo! the ghost of earth-born Argus!