Sonnet.
I saw Prometheus in a torrid clime,1
Up barren heights and wild, where never flock2
Had grazed—lone sufferer chained to his lone rock,3
’Twixt heav’n and earth—dread emblem of man’s crime,4
Eternally defying Jove and Time.5
Day’s sun, night’s dews, the vulture’s beak I saw6
Him calmly bear ; and my soul filled with awe,7
For that stern calm had something of sublime8
That bore me up, as on a lofty thought9
We soar with pinion strong, nor look below10
At lessening earth.—Prometheus, thou hast bought11
Thy Godhead at man’s price ; mind wed to woe,12
And in thy Pagan legend still we see13
Immortal soul—suffering humanity.14