A monologue from the perform by Percy Bysshe Shelley
NOTE: This monologue can be reprinted from Prometheus Unbound, A Lyrical Drama in Four Functions with Other Poems. Percy Bysshe Shelley. London: C and T Ollier, 1820.
PANTHEA: With the sea-sister in his toes I rested.
The hill mists, condensing at the voice
Beneath the moon, acquired spread their particular snowy flakes
From the enthusiastic ice shielding our connected sleep.
After that two dreams came. A single, I remember certainly not.
But in the other his pale wound-worn limbs
Fell from Prometheus, and the violet night
Grew radiant with the glory of these form
Which in turn lives unrevised within, fantastic voice droped
Like music which makes giddy the darkish brain
Faint with intoxication of enthusiastic joy:
\Sister of her whose footsteps pave the earth
With loveliness”more fair than aught nevertheless her
In whose shadow thou art”lift thine eyes in me.
My spouse and i lifted these people: the overpowering lumination
Of that underworld shape was shadowed o\er
By love, which, from his gentle and streaming limbs
And passion-parted lip area, and eager, faint sight
Steamed forth like vaporous fire, an atmosphere
Which wrapped me in its all-dissolving power
Because the nice ether of the morning sunshine
Wraps ere it refreshments some cloud of roaming dew.
I could see not, heard not, moved not, only felt
His presence flow and mingle through my blood
Till it became his life, and his grew mine
And I was as a result absorbed, until it passed
And like the vapours when the sunlight sinks down
Gathering again in drops upon the pines
And tremulous as they, in the profound night
My personal being was condensed, as the light
Of believed were slowly gathered, I possibly could hear
His voice, in whose accents lingered ere they died
Just like footsteps of weak tune: thy term
Among the many sounds alone My spouse and i heard
Of what may be articulate, even though still
I actually listened during the night when audio was none.
Ione wakened then, and said to myself:
\Canst thou divine what troubles me personally to-night?
I knew, the things i desired ahead of
Nor ever before found joy to desire in vain.
But now I cannot tell the what I seek
I know certainly not, something lovely, since it can be sweet
Possibly to desire, it is thy sport, bogus sister
Thou hast uncovered some fantasy old
Whose spells possess stolen my personal spirit as I slept
And mingled this with thine: for when ever just now
All of us kissed, We felt inside thy parted lips
The sweet surroundings that endured me, as well as the warmth
With the life-blood, pertaining to loss of which I faint
Quivered between each of our intertwining forearms. \
My spouse and i answered not really, for the Eastern superstar grew paler
But fled to thee.
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