Page:Prometheus Unbound - Shelley.djvu/27

Second Voice: from the springs.

⁠Thunder-bolts had parched our water,

⁠We had been stained with bitter blood,
⁠And had run mute, 'mid shrieks of slaughter
⁠Thro' a city and a solitude.

Third Voice: from the air.

⁠I had clothed, since Earth uprose,

⁠Its wastes in colors not their own,
⁠And oft had my serene repose
⁠Been cloven by many a rending groan.

Fourth Voice: from the whirlwinds.

⁠We had soared beneath these mountains

⁠Unresting ages; nor had thunder,
⁠Nor yon volcano's flaming fountains,
⁠Nor any power above or under
⁠Ever made us mute with wonder.

First Voice.

⁠But never bowed our snowy crest

⁠As at the voice of thine unrest.