Page:Prometheus Unbound - Shelley.djvu/79

SCENE II. Which drives them on their path, while they Believe their own swift wings and feet The sweet desires within obey; And so they float upon their way, Until, still sweet, but loud and strong, The storm of sound is driven along, Sucked up and hurrying; as they fleet Behind, its gathering billows meet And to the fatal mountain bear Like clouds amid the yielding air.

Canst thou imagine where those spirits live Which make such delicate music in the woods? We haunt within the least frequented caves And closest coverts, and we know these wilds, Yet never meet them, tho' we hear them oft: Where may they hide themselves?

'Tis hard to tell; I have heard those more skilled in spirits say, The bubbles, which the enchantment of the sun Sucks from the pale faint water-flowers that pave The oozy bottom of clear lakes and pools, Are the pavilions where such dwell and float