Page:Prometheus Unbound - Shelley.djvu/71

SCENE I. I answered not, for the Eastern star grew pale, But fled to thee.

Thou speakest, but thy words Are as the air; I feel them not. Oh, lift Thine eyes, that I may read his written soul!

I lift them, tho' they droop beneath the load Of that they would express; what canst thou see But thine own fairest shadow imaged there?

Thine eyes are like the deep, blue, boundless heaven Contracted to two circles underneath Their long, fine lashes; dark, far, measureless, Orb within orb, and line thro' line inwoven.

Why lookest thou as if a spirit passed?

There is a change; beyond their inmost depth I see a shade, a shape: 'tis He, arrayed In the soft light of his own smiles, which spread Like radiance from the cloud-surrounded moon. Prometheus, it is thine! depart not yet! Say not those smiles that we shall meet again Within that bright pavilion which their beams Shall build on the waste world? The dream is told. What shape is that between us? Its rude hair Roughens the wind that lifts it, its regard