Explore "Prometheus Unbound" by Percy Bysshe Shelley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
SCENE 2.1: / MORNING. / A LOVELY VALE IN THE INDIAN CAUCASUS. / ASIA, ALONE.
ASIA: / From all the blasts of heaven thou hast descended: / Yes, like a spirit, like a thought, which makes / Unwonted tears throng to the horny eyes, / And beatings haunt the desolated heart, / Which should have learnt repose: thou hast descended / Cradled in tempests; thou dost wake, O Spring! / O child of many winds! As suddenly / Thou comest as the memory of a dream, / Which now is sad because it hath been sweet; / Like genius, or like joy which riseth up / As from the earth, clothing with golden clouds / The desert of our life. / This is the season, this the day, the hour; / At sunrise thou shouldst come, sweet sister mine, / Too long desired, too long delaying, come! / How like death-worms the wingless moments crawl! / The point of one white star is quivering still / Deep in the orange light of widening morn / Beyond the purple mountains: through a chasm / Of wind-divided mist the darker lake / Reflects it: now it wanes: it gleams again / As the waves fade, and as the burning threads / Of woven cloud unravel in pale air: / 'Tis lost! and through yon peaks of cloud-like snow / The roseate sunlight quivers: hear I not / The Aeolian music of her sea-green plumes / Winnowing the crimson dawn?