And the beard and the hair Of the fleet nymph's flight III 'Oh, save me! Oh, guide me! For he grasps me now by the hair!' To its blue depth stirred, The Earth's white daughter Fled like a sunny beam; Behind her descended Her billows, unblended With the brackish Dorian stream:- On the emerald main A dove to its ruin Down the streams of the cloudy wind. Under the bowers IV Where the Ocean Powers Through the dim beams Which amid the streams Where the shadowy waves Are as green as the forest's night:- And the sword-fish dark, Under the Ocean's foam, And up through the rifts They passed to their Dorian home. V And now from their fountains In Enna's mountains, Down one vale where the morning basks, Like friends once parted Grown single-hearted, From their cradles steep Beneath the Ortygian shore; Like spirits that lie In the azure sky When they love but live no more. Percy Bysshe Shelley SONG OF PROSERPINE WHILE GATHERING FLOWERS ON THE PLAIN OF ENNA I SACRED Goddess, Mother Earth, Thou from whose immortal bosom Gods, and men, and beasts have birth, Leaf and blade, and bud and blossom, Breathe thine influence most divine On thine own child, Proserpine. II If with mists of evening dew Thou dost nourish these young flowers Till they grow, in scent and hue, Fairest children of the Hours, Breathe thine influence most divine On thine own child, Proserpine. Percy Bysshe Shelley HYMN OF PAN I FROM the forests and highlands Where loud waves are dumb The wind in the reeds and the rushes And the lizards below in the grass, II Liquid Peneus was flowing, The Sileni, and Sylvans, and Fauns, And the Nymphs of the woods and the waves, To the edge of the moist river-lawns, And the brink of the dewy caves, And all that did then attend and follow, And of Heaven-and the giant wars, |