Percy Bysshe Shelley - Delphi Poets Series Read online

  Which ne’er could rack an everlasting soul,

  That sees the chains which bind it to its doom.

  Yes! crime and misery are in yonder earth,

  Falsehood, mistake, and lust; 30

  But the eternal world

  Contains at once the evil and the cure.

  Some eminent in virtue shall start up,

  Even in perversest time:

  The truths of their pure lips, that never die, 35

  Shall bind the scorpion falsehood with a wreath

  Of ever-living flame,

  Until the monster sting itself to death.

  ‘How sweet a scene will earth become!

  Of purest spirits a pure dwelling-place, 40

  Symphonious with the planetary spheres;

  When man, with changeless Nature coalescing,

  Will undertake regeneration’s work,

  When its ungenial poles no longer point

  To the red and baleful sun 45

  That faintly twinkles there.

  ‘Spirit! on yonder earth,

  Falsehood now triumphs; deadly power

  Has fixed its seal upon the lip of truth!

  Madness and misery are there! 50

  The happiest is most wretched! Yet confide,

  Until pure health-drops, from the cup of joy,

  Fall like a dew of balm upon the world.

  Now, to the scene I show, in silence turn,

  And read the blood-stained charter of all woe, 55

  Which Nature soon, with re-creating hand,

  Will blot in mercy from the book of earth.

  How bold the flight of Passion’s wandering wing,

  How swift the step of Reason’s firmer tread,

  How calm and sweet the victories of life, 60

  How terrorless the triumph of the grave!

  How powerless were the mightiest monarch’s arm,

  Vain his loud threat, and impotent his frown!

  How ludicrous the priest’s dogmatic roar!

  The weight of his exterminating curse 65

  How light! and his affected charity,

  To suit the pressure of the changing times,

  What palpable deceit! — but for thy aid,

  Religion! but for thee, prolific fiend,

  Who peoplest earth with demons, Hell with men, 70

  And Heaven with slaves!

  ‘Thou taintest all thou look’st upon! — the stars,

  Which on thy cradle beamed so brightly sweet,

  Were gods to the distempered playfulness

  Of thy untutored infancy: the trees, 75

  The grass, the clouds, the mountains, and the sea,

  All living things that walk, swim, creep, or fly,

  Were gods: the sun had homage, and the moon

  Her worshipper. Then thou becam’st, a boy,

  More daring in thy frenzies: every shape, 80

  Monstrous or vast, or beautifully wild,

  Which, from sensation’s relics, fancy culls

  The spirits of the air, the shuddering ghost,

  The genii of the elements, the powers

  That give a shape to Nature’s varied works, 85

  Had life and place in the corrupt belief

  Of thy blind heart: yet still thy youthful hands

  Were pure of human blood. Then manhood gave

  Its strength and ardour to thy frenzied brain;

  Thine eager gaze scanned the stupendous scene, 90

  Whose wonders mocked the knowledge of thy pride:

  Their everlasting and unchanging laws

  Reproached thine ignorance. Awhile thou stoodst

  Baffled and gloomy; then thou didst sum up

  The elements of all that thou didst know; 95

  The changing seasons, winter’s leafless reign,

  The budding of the Heaven-breathing trees,

  The eternal orbs that beautify the night,

  The sunrise, and the setting of the moon,

  Earthquakes and wars, and poisons and disease, 100

  And all their causes, to an abstract point

  Converging, thou didst bend and called it God!

  The self-sufficing, the omnipotent,

  The merciful, and the avenging God!

  Who, prototype of human misrule, sits 105

  High in Heaven’s realm, upon a golden throne,

  Even like an earthly king; and whose dread work,

  Hell, gapes for ever for the unhappy slaves

  Of fate, whom He created, in his sport,

  To triumph in their torments when they fell! 110

  Earth heard the name; Earth trembled, as the smoke

  Of His revenge ascended up to Heaven,

  Blotting the constellations; and the cries

  Of millions, butchered in sweet confidence

  And unsuspecting peace, even when the bonds 115

  Of safety were confirmed by wordy oaths

  Sworn in His dreadful name, rung through the land;

  Whilst innocent babes writhed on thy stubborn spear,

  And thou didst laugh to hear the mother’s shriek

  Of maniac gladness, as the sacred steel 120

  Felt cold in her torn entrails!

  ‘Religion! thou wert then in manhood’s prime:

  But age crept on: one God would not suffice

  For senile puerility; thou framedst

  A tale to suit thy dotage, and to glut 125

  Thy misery-thirsting soul, that the mad fiend

  Thy wickedness had pictured might afford

  A plea for sating the unnatural thirst

  For murder, rapine, violence, and crime,

  That still consumed thy being, even when 130

  Thou heardst the step of Fate; — that flames might light

  Thy funeral scene, and the shrill horrent shrieks

  Of parents dying on the pile that burned

  To light their children to thy paths, the roar

  Of the encircling flames, the exulting cries 135

  Of thine apostles, loud commingling there,

  Might sate thine hungry ear

  Even on the bed of death!

  ‘But now contempt is mocking thy gray hairs;

  Thou art descending to the darksome grave, 140

  Unhonoured and unpitied, but by those

  Whose pride is passing by like thine, and sheds,

  Like thine, a glare that fades before the sun

  Of truth, and shines but in the dreadful night

  That long has lowered above the ruined world. 145

  ‘Throughout these infinite orbs of mingling light,

  Of which yon earth is one, is wide diffused

  A Spirit of activity and life,

  That knows no term, cessation, or decay;

  That fades not when the lamp of earthly life, 150

  Extinguished in the dampness of the grave,

  Awhile there slumbers, more than when the babe

  In the dim newness of its being feels

  The impulses of sublunary things,

  And all is wonder to unpractised sense: 155

  But, active, steadfast, and eternal, still

  Guides the fierce whirlwind, in the tempest roars,

  Cheers in the day, breathes in the balmy groves,

  Strengthens in health, and poisons in disease;

  And in the storm of change, that ceaselessly 160

  Rolls round the eternal universe, and shakes

  Its undecaying battlement, presides,

  Apportioning with irresistible law

  The place each spring of its machine shall fill;

  So that when waves on waves tumultuous heap 165

  Confusion to the clouds, and fiercely driven

  Heaven’s lightnings scorch the uprooted ocean-fords,

  Whilst, to the eye of shipwrecked mariner,

  Lone sitting on the bare and shuddering rock,

  All seems unlinked contingency and chance: 170

  No atom of this t
urbulence fulfils

  A vague and unnecessitated task,

  Or acts but as it must and ought to act.

  Even the minutest molecule of light,

  That in an April sunbeam’s fleeting glow 175

  Fulfils its destined, though invisible work,

  The universal Spirit guides; nor less,

  When merciless ambition, or mad zeal,

  Has led two hosts of dupes to battlefield,

  That, blind, they there may dig each other’s graves, 180

  And call the sad work glory, does it rule

  All passions: not a thought, a will, an act,

  No working of the tyrant’s moody mind,

  Nor one misgiving of the slaves who boast

  Their servitude, to hide the shame they feel, 185

  Nor the events enchaining every will,

  That from the depths of unrecorded time

  Have drawn all-influencing virtue, pass

  Unrecognized, or unforeseen by thee,

  Soul of the Universe! eternal spring 190

  Of life and death, of happiness and woe,

  Of all that chequers the phantasmal scene

  That floats before our eyes in wavering light,

  Which gleams but on the darkness of our prison,

  Whose chains and massy walls 195

  We feel, but cannot see.

  ‘Spirit of Nature! all-sufficing Power,

  Necessity! thou mother of the world!

  Unlike the God of human error, thou

  Requir’st no prayers or praises; the caprice 200

  Of man’s weak will belongs no more to thee

  Than do the changeful passions of his breast

  To thy unvarying harmony: the slave,

  Whose horrible lusts spread misery o’er the world,

  And the good man, who lifts, with virtuous pride, 205

  His being, in the sight of happiness,

  That springs from his own works; the poison-tree

  Beneath whose shade all life is withered up,

  And the fair oak, whose leafy dome affords

  A temple where the vows of happy love 210

  Are registered, are equal in thy sight:

  No love, no hate thou cherishest; revenge

  And favouritism, and worst desire of fame

  Thou know’st not: all that the wide world contains

  Are but thy passive instruments, and thou 215

  Regard’st them all with an impartial eye,

  Whose joy or pain thy nature cannot feel,

  Because thou hast not human sense,

  Because thou art not human mind.

  ‘Yes! when the sweeping storm of time 220

  Has sung its death-dirge o’er the ruined fanes

  And broken altars of the almighty Fiend

  Whose name usurps thy honours, and the blood

  Through centuries clotted there, has floated down

  The tainted flood of ages, shalt thou live 225

  Unchangeable! A shrine is raised to thee,

  Which, nor the tempest-breath of time,

  Nor the interminable flood,

  Over earth’s slight pageant rolling,

  Availeth to destroy, — . 230

  The sensitive extension of the world.

  That wondrous and eternal fane,

  Where pain and pleasure, good and evil join,

  To do the will of strong necessity,

  And life, in multitudinous shapes, 235

  Still pressing forward where no term can be,

  Like hungry and unresting flame

  Curls round the eternal columns of its strength.’

  7.

  SPIRIT:

  ‘I was an infant when my mother went

  To see an atheist burned. She took me there:

  The dark-robed priests were met around the pile;

  The multitude was gazing silently;

  And as the culprit passed with dauntless mien, 5

  Tempered disdain in his unaltering eye,

  Mixed with a quiet smile, shone calmly forth:

  The thirsty fire crept round his manly limbs;

  His resolute eyes were scorched to blindness soon;

  His death-pang rent my heart! the insensate mob 10

  Uttered a cry of triumph, and I wept.

  “Weep not, child!” cried my mother, “for that man

  Has said, There is no God.”’

  FAIRY:

  ‘There is no God!

  Nature confirms the faith his death-groan sealed:

  Let heaven and earth, let man’s revolving race, 15

  His ceaseless generations tell their tale;

  Let every part depending on the chain

  That links it to the whole, point to the hand

  That grasps its term! let every seed that falls

  In silent eloquence unfold its store 20

  Of argument; infinity within,

  Infinity without, belie creation;

  The exterminable spirit it contains

  Is nature’s only God; but human pride

  Is skilful to invent most serious names 25

  To hide its ignorance.

  The name of God

  Has fenced about all crime with holiness,

  Himself the creature of His worshippers,

  Whose names and attributes and passions change,

  Seeva, Buddh, Foh, Jehovah, God, or Lord, 30

  Even with the human dupes who build His shrines,

  Still serving o’er the war-polluted world

  For desolation’s watchword; whether hosts

  Stain His death-blushing chariot-wheels, as on

  Triumphantly they roll, whilst Brahmins raise 35

  A sacred hymn to mingle with the groans;

  Or countless partners of His power divide

  His tyranny to weakness; or the smoke

  Of burning towns, the cries of female helplessness,

  Unarmed old age, and youth, and infancy, 40

  Horribly massacred, ascend to Heaven

  In honour of His name; or, last and worst,

  Earth groans beneath religion’s iron age,

  And priests dare babble of a God of peace,

  Even whilst their hands are red with guiltless blood, 45

  Murdering the while, uprooting every germ

  Of truth, exterminating, spoiling all,

  Making the earth a slaughter-house!

  ‘O Spirit! through the sense

  By which thy inner nature was apprised 50

  Of outward shows, vague dreams have rolled,

  And varied reminiscences have waked

  Tablets that never fade;

  All things have been imprinted there,

  The stars, the sea, the earth, the sky, 55

  Even the unshapeliest lineaments

  Of wild and fleeting visions

  Have left a record there

  To testify of earth.

  ‘These are my empire, for to me is given 60

  The wonders of the human world to keep,

  And Fancy’s thin creations to endow

  With manner, being, and reality;

  Therefore a wondrous phantom, from the dreams

  Of human error’s dense and purblind faith, 65

  I will evoke, to meet thy questioning.

  Ahasuerus, rise!’

  A strange and woe-worn wight

  Arose beside the battlement,

  And stood unmoving there. 70

  His inessential figure cast no shade

  Upon the golden floor;

  His port and mien bore mark of many years,

  And chronicles of untold ancientness

  Were legible within his beamless eye: 75

  Yet his cheek bore the mark of youth;

  Freshness and vigour knit his manly frame;

  The wisdom of old age was mingled there

  With youth’s primaeval dauntlessness;

  And inexpressible woe, 80

  Chastened by fearle
ss resignation, gave

  An awful grace to his all-speaking brow.

  SPIRIT:

  ‘Is there a God?’

  AHASUERUS:

  ‘Is there a God! — ay, an almighty God,

  And vengeful as almighty! Once His voice 85

  Was heard on earth: earth shuddered at the sound;

  The fiery-visaged firmament expressed

  Abhorrence, and the grave of Nature yawned

  To swallow all the dauntless and the good

  That dared to hurl defiance at His throne, 90

  Girt as it was with power. None but slaves

  Survived, — cold-blooded slaves, who did the work

  Of tyrannous omnipotence; whose souls

  No honest indignation ever urged

  To elevated daring, to one deed 95

  Which gross and sensual self did not pollute.

  These slaves built temples for the omnipotent Fiend,

  Gorgeous and vast: the costly altars smoked

  With human blood, and hideous paeans rung

  Through all the long-drawn aisles. A murderer heard 100

  His voice in Egypt, one whose gifts and arts

  Had raised him to his eminence in power,

  Accomplice of omnipotence in crime,

  And confidant of the all-knowing one.

  These were Jehovah’s words: — 105

  ‘From an eternity of idleness

  I, God, awoke; in seven days’ toil made earth

  From nothing; rested, and created man:

  I placed him in a Paradise, and there

  Planted the tree of evil, so that he 110

  Might eat and perish, and My soul procure

  Wherewith to sate its malice, and to turn,

  Even like a heartless conqueror of the earth,

  All misery to My fame. The race of men

  Chosen to My honour, with impunity 115

  May sate the lusts I planted in their heart.

  Here I command thee hence to lead them on,

  Until, with hardened feet, their conquering troops

  Wade on the promised soil through woman’s blood,

  And make My name be dreaded through the land. 120

  Yet ever-burning flame and ceaseless woe

  Shall be the doom of their eternal souls,

  With every soul on this ungrateful earth,

  Virtuous or vicious, weak or strong, — even all

  Shall perish, to fulfil the blind revenge 125

  (Which you, to men, call justice) of their God.’

  The murderer’s brow

  Quivered with horror.

  ‘God omnipotent,

  Is there no mercy? must our punishment

  Be endless? will long ages roll away, 130

  And see no term? Oh! wherefore hast Thou made

  In mockery and wrath this evil earth?

  Mercy becomes the powerful — be but just:

  O God! repent and save.’

  ‘One way remains:

  I will beget a Son, and He shall bear 135