The Poetical Works Of Robert Bridges - BestLightNovel.com
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CHOR. 'Twas in the marish reed.
See to his mouth he sets its hollow flute And breathes therein with heed, As one who from a pipe with breathings mute Will music's voice evoke.-- See, the curl of a cloud. 1290
IN. The smoke, the smoke!
SEMICHORUS. Thin clouds mounting higher.
IN. 'Tis smoke, the smoke of fire.
SEMICHORUS. Thick they come and thicker, Quick arise and quicker, Higher still and higher.
Their wreaths the wood enfold.
--I see a spot of gold.
They spring from a spot of gold, Red gold, deep among 1300 The leaves: a golden tongue.
O behold, behold, Dancing tongues of gold, That leaping aloft flicker, Higher still and higher.
IN. 'Tis fire, the flame of fire!
SEMICHORUS. The blue smoke overhead Is turned to angry red.
The fire, the fire, it stirs.
Hark, a crackling sound, 1310 As when all around Ripened pods of furze Split in the parching sun Their dry caps one by one, And shed their seeds on the ground.
--Ah! what clouds arise.
Away! O come away.
The wind-wafted smoke, Blowing all astray, Blinds and p.r.i.c.ks my eyes.
[PROMETHEUS, _after writing his name on the altar, goes out un.o.bserved_.]
Ah! I choke, I choke.
--All the midst is rent: See, the twigs are all By the flaming spent White and gold, and fall.
How they writhe, resist, Blacken, flake, and twist, Snap in gold and fall.
--See the stars that mount, Momentary bright 1330 Flitting specks of light More than eye can count.
Insects of the air, As in summer night Show a fire in flying Flickering here and there, Waving past and dying.
--Look, a common cone Of the mountain pine Solid gold is grown; 1340 Till its scales outs.h.i.+ne, Standing each alone In the spiral rows Of their fair design, All the brightest shows Of the sun's decline.
--Hark, there came a hiss, Like a startled snake Sliding through the brake.
Oh, and what is this? 1350 Smaller flames that flee Sidelong from the tree, Hark, they hiss, they hiss.
--How the gay flames flicker, Spurting, dancing, leaping Quicker yet and quicker, Higher yet and higher, --Flaming, flaring, fuming, Cracking, crackling, creeping, Hissing and consuming: 1360 Mighty is the fire.
IN. Stay, stay, cease your rejoicings. Where is he, The prophet,--nay, what say I,--the G.o.d, the giver?
CHOR. He is not here--he is gone.
IN. Search, search around.
Search all, search well.
CHOR. He is gone,--he is not here.
IN. The palace gate lies open: go, Argeia, Maybe he went within: go seek him there.
[_Exit_ AR.
Look down the sea road, down the country road: Follow him if ye see him.
CHOR. He is not there.
IN. Strain, strain your eyes: look well: search everywhere.
Look townwards--is he there?
_Part of_ CHORUS _returning_. He is not there.-- 1371
_Other part returning._ He is not there.
_Argeia re-entering._
AR. He is not there.
CHOR. O see!
CHOR. See where?
CHOR. See on the altar--see!
CHOR. What see ye on the altar?
CHOR. Here in front Words newly writ.
CHOR. What words?
CHOR. A name--
IN. Ay true-- There is the name. How like a child was I, That I must wait till these dumb letters gave The shape and soul to knowledge: when the G.o.d Stood here so self-revealed to ears and eyes That, 'tis a G.o.d I said, yet wavering still, 1380 Doubting what G.o.d,--and now, who else but he?
I knew him, yet not well; I knew him not: Prometheus--ay, Prometheus. Know ye, my children, This name we see was writ by him we seek.
'Tis his own name, his own heart-stirring name, Feared and revered among the immortal G.o.ds; Divine Prometheus: see how here the large Cadmeian characters run, scoring out The hated t.i.tle of his ancient foe,-- To Zeus 'twas made,--and now 'tis to Prometheus-- 1390 Writ with the charred reed--theft upon theft.
He hath stolen from Zeus his altar, and with his fire Hath lit our sacrifice unto himself.
Io Prometheus, friend and firegiver, For good or ill thy thefts and gifts are ours.
We wors.h.i.+pped thee unknowing.
CHOR. But now where is he?
IN. No need to search--we shall not see him more.
We look in vain. The high G.o.ds when they choose Put on and off the solid visible shape Which more deceives our hasty sense, than when 1400 Seeing them not we judge they stand aloof.
And he, he now is gone; his work is done: 'Tis ours to see it be not done in vain.
CHOR. What is to do? speak, bid, command, we fly.
In. Go some and fetch more wood to feed the fire; And some into the city to proclaim That fire is ours: and send out messengers To Corinth, Sicyon, Megara and Athens And to Mycenae, telling we have fire: And bid that in the temples they prepare 1410 Their altars, and send hither careful men To learn of me what things the time requires.
[_Exit part of_ CHORUS.
The rest remain to end our feast; and now Seeing this altar is no more to Zeus, But shall for ever be with smouldering heat Fed for the G.o.d who first set fire thereon, Change ye your hymns, which in the praise of Zeus Ye came to sing, and change the prayer for fire Which ye were wont to raise, to high thanksgiving, Praising aloud the giver and his gift. 1420
_Part of_ CHORUS. Now our happy feast hath ending, While the sun in heaven descending Sees us gathered round a light Born to cheer his vacant night.