Page:Prometheus Unbound - Shelley.djvu/188

184 &emsp;Like weak insects in a cave, Lighted up by stalactites; &emsp;But the portal of the grave, Where a world of new delights &emsp;Will make thy best glories seem &emsp;But a dim and noonday gleam &emsp;From the shadow of a dream!

Peace! the abyss is wreathed with scorn At your presumption, atom-born! &emsp;What is heaven? and what are ye Who its brief expanse inherit? &emsp;What are suns and spheres which flee With the instinct of that spirit &emsp;Of which ye are but a part? &emsp;Drops which Nature’s mighty heart &emsp;Drives through thinnest veins. Depart!

What is heaven? a globe of dew, Filling in the morning new