DEMOGORGON Ye elemental Genii, who have homes From man's high mind even to the central stone 540 Of sullen lead; from Heaven's star-fretted domes To the dull weed some sea-worm battens on: A CONFUSED VOICE We hear thy words waken Oblivion. DEMOGORGON Spirits, whose homes are flesh: ye beasts and birds, Ye worms, and fish; ye living leaves and buds; 545 Lightning and wind; and ye untameable herds, Meteors and mists, which throng air's solitudes : A VOICE Thy voice to us is wind among still woods. DEMOGORGON Man, who wert once a despot and a slave; A dupe and a deceiver; a decay; A traveller from the cradle to the grave ALL Speak! thy strong words may never pass away. DEMOGORGON This is the day, which down the void abysm 550 At the Earth-born's spell yawns for Heaven's despot ism, 555 And Conquest is dragged captive through the deep: Love, from its awful throne of patient power In the wise heart, from the last giddy hour Of dread endurance, from the slippery, steep, And narrow verge of crag-like agony, springs And folds over the world its healing wings. Gentleness, Virtue, Wisdom, and Endurance, Mother of many acts and hours, should free The serpent that would clasp her with his length, These are the spells by which to re-assume An empire o'er the disentangled doom. To suffer woes which Hope thinks infinite; Neither to change, nor falter, nor repent; 560 565 570 575 THE WORLD'S WANDERERS TELL me, thou star, whose wings of light In what cavern of the night Will thy pinions close now? Tell me, moon, thou pale and gray Weary wind, who wanderest 1820. 5 10 THE WANING MOON AND like a dying lady, lean and pale, 5 1820. TO THE MOON ART thou pale for weariness Of climbing heaven, and gazing on the earth, Among the stars that have a different birth, — And ever changing, like a joyless eye That finds no object worth its constancy? 1820. 5 GOOD NIGHT GOOD NIGHT? ah, no; the hour is ill Then it will be good night. How can I call the lone night good, Though thy sweet wishes wing its flight? To hearts which near each other move 1820. 5 10 As a lizard with the shade Of a trembling leaf, Thou with sorrow art dismayed; Even the sighs of grief Reproach thee, that thou art not near, Let me set my mournful ditty To a merry measure: Pity then will cut away Those cruel wings, and thou wilt stay. I love all that thou lovest, Spirit of Delight! The fresh Earth in new leaves drest, And the starry night; I love snow, and all the forms I love waves, and winds, and storms, Which is Nature's, and may be I love tranquil solitude, And such society As is quiet, wise, and good; Between thee and me What difference? But thou dost possess 15 20 25 30 335 40 |