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Of element, earth, water, air, and fire, — At war, at peace, or inter-quarreling

       One against one, or two, or three, or all

       Each several one against the other three,

       As fire with air loud warring when rain-floods

       Drown both, and press them both against earth’s face,

       Where, finding sulphur, a quadruple wrath

       Unhinges the poor world; — not in that strife,

       Wherefrom I take strange lore, and read it deep,

       Can I find reason why ye should be thus:

       No, nowhere can unriddle, though I search, And pore on Nature’s universal scroll

       Even to swooning, why ye, Divinities,

       The first-born of all shap’d and palpable Gods,

       Should cower beneath what, in comparison,

       Is untremendous might. Yet ye are here,

       O’erwhelm’d, and spurn’d, and batter’d, ye are here!

       O Titans, shall I say ‘Arise!’ — Ye groan:

       Shall I say ‘Crouch!’ — Ye groan. What can I then?

       O Heaven wide! O unseen parent dear!

       What can I? Tell me, all ye brethren Gods, How we can war, how engine our great wrath!

       O speak your counsel now, for Saturn’s ear

       Is all a-hunger’d. Thou, Oceanus,

       Ponderest high and deep; and in thy face

       I see, astonied, that severe content

       Which comes of thought and musing: give us help!”

      So ended Saturn; and the God of the Sea,

       Sophist and sage, from no Athenian grove,

       But cogitation in his watery shades,

       Arose, with locks not oozy, and began, In murmurs, which his first-endeavouring tongue

       Caught infant-like from the far-foamed sands.

       “O ye, whom wrath consumes! who, passion-stung,

       Writhe at defeat, and nurse your agonies!

       Shut up your senses, stifle up your ears,

       My voice is not a bellows unto ire.

       Yet listen, ye who will, whilst I bring proof

       How ye, perforce, must be content to stoop:

       And in the proof much comfort will I give,

       If ye will take that comfort in its truth. We fall by course of Nature’s law, not force

       Of thunder, or of Jove. Great Saturn, thou

       Hast sifted well the atom-universe;

       But for this reason, that thou art the King,

       And only blind from sheer supremacy,

       One avenue was shaded from thine eyes,

       Through which I wandered to eternal truth.

       And first, as thou wast not the first of powers,

       So art thou not the last; it cannot be:

       Thou art not the beginning nor the end. From chaos and parental darkness came

       Light, the first fruits of that intestine broil,

       That sullen ferment, which for wondrous ends

       Was ripening in itself. The ripe hour came,

       And with it light, and light, engendering

       Upon its own producer, forthwith touch’d

       The whole enormous matter into life.

       Upon that very hour, our parentage,

       The Heavens and the Earth, were manifest:

       Then thou first-born, and we the giant-race, 0 Found ourselves ruling new and beauteous realms.

       Now comes the pain of truth, to whom ’tis pain;

       O folly! for to bear all naked truths,

       And to envisage circumstance, all calm,

       That is the top of sovereignty. Mark well!

       As Heaven and Earth are fairer, fairer far

       Than Chaos and blank Darkness, though once chiefs;

       And as we show beyond that Heaven and Earth

       In form and shape compact and beautiful,

       In will, in action free, companionship, And thousand other signs of purer life;

       So on our heels a fresh perfection treads,

       A power more strong in beauty, born of us

       And fated to excel us, as we pass

       In glory that old Darkness: nor are we

       Thereby more conquer’d, than by us the rule

       Of shapeless Chaos. Say, doth the dull soil

       Quarrel with the proud forests it hath fed,

       And feedeth still, more comely than itself?

       Can it deny the chiefdom of green groves? Or shall the tree be envious of the dove

       Because it cooeth, and hath snowy wings

       To wander wherewithal and find its joys?

       We are such forest-trees, and our fair boughs

       Have bred forth, not pale solitary doves,

       But eagles golden-feather’d, who do tower

       Above us in their beauty, and must reign

       In right thereof; for ’tis the eternal law

       That first in beauty should be first in might:

       Yea, by that law, another race may drive Our conquerors to mourn as we do now.

       Have ye beheld the young God of the Seas,

       My dispossessor? Have ye seen his face?

       Have ye beheld his chariot, foam’d along

       By noble winged creatures he hath made?

       I saw him on the calmed waters scud,

       With such a glow of beauty in his eyes,

       That it enforc’d me to bid sad farewell

       To all my empire: farewell sad I took,

       And hither came, to see how dolorous fate Had wrought upon ye; and how I might best

       Give consolation in this woe extreme.

       Receive the truth, and let it be your balm.”

      Whether through poz’d conviction, or disdain,

       They guarded silence, when Oceanus

       Left murmuring, what deepest thought can tell?

       But so it was, none answer’d for a space,

       Save one whom none regarded, Clymene;

       And yet she answer’d not, only complain’d,

       With hectic lips, and eyes up-looking mild, Thus wording timidly among the fierce:

       “O Father, I am here the simplest voice,

       And all my knowledge is that joy is gone,

       And this thing woe crept in among our hearts,

       There to remain for ever, as I fear:

       I would not bode of evil, if I thought

       So weak a creature could turn off the help

       Which by just right should come of mighty Gods;

       Yet let me tell my sorrow, let me tell

       Of what I heard, and how it made me weep, And know that we had parted from all hope.

      

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