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Prometheus Bound [8]

By Root 115 0


With spectral hand,

Along the windings of the wasteful shore,

The salt sea-sand!

List! List! the pipe! how drowzily it shrills!

A cricket-cry!

See! See! the wax-webbed reeds! Oh, to these ills

Ye Gods on high,

Ye blessed Gods, what bourne? O wandering feet

When will ye rest?

O Cronian child, wherein by aught unmeet

Have I transgressed

To be yoke-fellow with Calamity?

My mind unstrung,

A crack-brained lack-wit, frantic mad am I,

By gad-fly stung,

Thy scourge, that tarres me on with buzzing wingl

Plunge me in fire,

Hide me in earth, to deep-sea monsters fling,

But my desire-

Kneeling I pray-grudge not to grant, O King!

Too long a race

Stripped for the course have I run to and fro;

And still I chase

The vanishing goal, the end of all my woe;

Enough have I mourned!

Hear'st thou the lowing of the maid cow-horned?

PROMETHEUS

How should I hear thee not? Thou art the child

Of Inachus, dazed with the dizzying fly.

The heart of Zeus thou hast made hot with love

And Hera's curse even as a runner stripped

Pursues thee ever on thine endless round.

IO

How dost thou know my father's name? Impart

To one like thee

A poor, distressful creature, who thou art.

Sorrow with me,

Sorrowful one! Tell me, whose voice proclaims

Things true and sad,

Naming by all their old, unhappy names,

What drove me mad-

Sick! Sick! ye Gods, with suffering ye have sent,

That clings and clings;

Wasting my lamp of life till it be spent!

Crazed with your stings!

Famished I come with trampling and with leaping,

Torment and shame,

To Hera's cruel wrath, her craft unsleeping,

Captive and tame

Of all wights woe-begone and fortune-crossed,

Oh, in the storm

Of the world's sorrow is there one so lost?

Speak, godlike form,

And be in this dark world my oracle I

Can'st thou not sift

The things to come? Hast thou no art to tell

What subtle shift,

Or sound of charming song shall make me well?

Hide naught of ill

But-if indeed thou knowest-prophesy-

In words that thrill

Clear-toned through air-what such a wretch as

Must yet abide-

The lost, lost maid that roams earth's kingdoms wide?

PROMETHEUS

What thou wouldst learn I will make clear to thee,

Not weaving subtleties, but simple sooth

Unfolding as the mouth should speak to friends.

I am Prometheus, giver of fire to mortals.

IO

Oh universal succour of mankind,

Sorrowful Prometheus, why art thou punished thus?

PROMETHEUS

I have but now ceased mourning for my griefs.

IO

Wilt thou not grant me then so small a boon?

PROMETHEUS

What is it thou dost ask? Thou shalt know all.

IO

Declare to me who chained thee in this gorge.

PROMETHEUS

The hest of Zeus, but 'twas Hephaestus' hand.

IO

But what transgression dost thou expiate?

PROMETHEUS

Let this suffice thee: thou shalt know no more.

IO

Nay, but the end of my long wandering

When shall it be? This too thou must declare.

PROMETHEUS

That it is better for thee not to know.

IO

Oh hide not from me what I have to suffer!

PROMETHEUS

Poor child! Poor child! I do not grudge the gift.

IO

Why then, art thou so slow to tell me all?

PROMETHEUS

It is not from unkindness; but I fear

'Twill break thy heart.

IO

Take thou no thought for me

Where thinking thwarteth heart's desire!

PROMETHEUS

So keen

To know thy sorrows! List I and thou shalt learn.

CHORUS

Not till thou hast indulged a wish of mine.

First let us hear the story of her grief

And she herself shall tell the woeful tale.

After,
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