Page:Shelley The Daemon of the World.djvu/27

 The magic car moved on From the swift sweep of wings The atmosphere in flaming sparkles flew; And where the burning wheels Eddied above the mountain's loftiest peak Was traced a line of lightning. Now far above a rock the utmost verge Of the wide earth it flew, The rival of the Andes, whose dark brow Frowned o'er the silver sea.

Far, far below the chariot's stormy path, Calm as a slumbering babe, Tremendous ocean lay. Its broad and silent mirror gave to view The pale and waning stars, The chariot's fiery track, And the grey light of morn Tinging those fleecy clouds That cradled in their folds the infant dawn.