Page:Prometheus bound - Browning (1833).djvu/56

 A tear-distilling stream doth break, With humid fount to dew my cheek; Because Saturnius, cruel still, Ruling by his proper will. Doth the royal sceptre bear, Subversive of the gods who were.

All this land, of far extent, Deeply sighing, doth lament Thy brethren's chastisement and thine, Unworthy of an ancient line. And mortals all, who find abode On holy Asia's neighb'ring sod, Sorrow with thee, who art lying In a sorrow meet for sighing:—