Page:Prometheus bound - Browning (1833).djvu/181



of our England! stand On the shores that girt our land; The ægis of whose cloud-white rock Braveth Time's own battle shock. Look above the wide, wide world; Where the northern blasts have furl'd Their numbed wings amid the snows, Mutt'ring in a forced repose— Or where the madden'd sun on high Shakes his torch athwart the sky, Till within their prison sere, Chained earthquakes groan for fear!