Page:Prometheus Unbound - Shelley.djvu/44

40 Into Eternity, where recorded time, Even all that we imagine, age on age, Seems but a point, and the reluctant mind Flags wearily in its unending flight, Till it sink, dizzy, blind, lost, shelterless; Perchance it has not numbered the slow years Which thou must spend in torture, unreprieved?

Perchance no thought can count them, yet they pass.

If thou might'st dwell among the Gods the while Lapped in voluptuous joy?

I would not quit This bleak ravine, these unrepentant pains.

Alas! I wonder at, yet pity thee.

Pity the self-despising slaves of Heaven, Not me, within whose mind sits peace serene, As light in the sun, throned. How vain is talk! Call up the fiends.

Oh, sister, look! White fire Has cloven to the roots yon huge snow-loaded cedar; How fearfully God's thunder howls behind!

I must obey his words and thine: alas! Most heavily remorse hangs at my heart!