Page:Prometheus bound - Browning (1833).djvu/119

 My deep unslumb'ring dream, but utter'd naught. My living I uncoupled from the dead, And look'd out, 'mid the swart and sluggish air, For place to make a grave. A mighty tree Above me, his gigantic arms outstretch'd, Poising the clouds. A thousand mutter'd spells Of every ancient wind and thund'rous storm, Had been off-shaken from his scathless bark. He had heard distant years sweet concord yield, And go to silence; having firmly kept Majestical companionship with Time. Anon his strength wax'd proud: his tusky roots Forced for themselves a path on every side, Riving the earth; and, in their savage scorn, Casting it from them like a thing unclean, Which might impede his naked clambering Unto the heavens. Now blasted, peel'd, he stood, By the gone night, whose lightning had come in And rent him, even as it rent the man