Page:Prometheus Unbound - Shelley.djvu/83

SCENE III. Look how the gusty sea of mist is breaking In crimson foam, even at our feet! it rises As Ocean at the enchantment of the moon Round foodless men wrecked on some oozy isle.

The fragments of the cloud are scattered up; The wind that lifts them disentwines my hair; Its billows now sweep o'er mine eyes; my brain Grows dizzy; I see shapes within the mist.

A countenance with beckoning smiles; there burns An azure fire within its golden locks! Another and another: hark! they speak!

To the deep, to the deep, Down down! Through the shade of sleep, Through the cloudy strife Of Death and of Life; Through the veil and the bar Of things which seem and are, Even to the steps of the remotest throne, Down, down!