Explore "Hyperion" by John Keats on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Just at the self-same beat of Time's wide wings / Hyperion slid into the rustled air, / And Saturn gain'd with Thea that sad place / Where Cybele and the bruised Titans mourn'd.
It was a den where no insulting light / Could glimmer on their tears; where their own groans / They felt, but heard not, for the solid roar / Of thunderous waterfalls and torrents hoarse, / Pouring a constant bulk, uncertain where.