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Shelley, Mary Wollstonecraft, 1797-1851

"Proserpine and Midas"


_Cer._ (_starting up_)
Is this thy doom, great Jove? & shall Hell's king
Quitting dark Tartarus, spread grief and tears
Among the dwellers of your bright abodes?
Then let him seize the earth itself, the stars,--
And all your wide dominion be his prey!--
Your sister calls upon your love, great King!
As you are God I do demand your help!--
Restore my child, or let all heaven sink,
And the fair world be chaos once again!
_Ino._ Look[!] in the East that loveliest bow is formed[;]
Heaven's single-arched bridge, it touches now
The Earth, and 'mid the pathless wastes of heaven
It paves a way for Jove's fair Messenger;--
Iris descends, and towards this field she comes.
_Areth._ Sovereign of Harvests, 'tis the Messenger
That will bring joy to thee. Thine eyes light up
With sparkling hope, thy cheeks are pale with dread.
_Enter Iris._
_Cer._ Speak, heavenly Iris! let thy words be poured
Into my drooping soul, like dews of eve
On a too long parched field.--Where is my Proserpine?
_Iris._ Sister of Heaven, as by Joves throne I stood [21]
The voice of thy deep prayer arose,--it filled
The heavenly courts with sorrow and dismay:
The Thunderer frowned, & heaven shook with dread
I bear his will to thee, 'tis fixed by fate,
Nor prayer nor murmur e'er can alter it.


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