Page:Prometheus Unbound - Shelley.djvu/37

SCENE I. But thou, who art the God and Lord: O thou Who fillest with thy soul this world of woe, To whom all things of Earth and Heaven do bow In fear and worship—all-prevailing foe! I curse thee! let a sufferer's curse Clasp thee, his torturer, like remorse; Till thine Infinity shall be A robe of envenomed agony; And thine Omnipotence a crown of pain, To cling like burning gold round thy dissolving brain!

Heap on thy soul, by virtue of this Curse, Ill deeds; then be thou damned, beholding good; Both infinite as is the universe, And thou, and thy self-torturing solitude. An awful image of calm power Though now thou sittest, let the hour Come, when thou must appear to be That which thou art internally; And after many a false and fruitless crime, Scorn track thy lagging fall thro' boundless space and time!

Were these my words, O Parent?