DEMOGORGON:
Thou, Earth, calm empire of a happy soul,
Sphere of divinest shapes and harmonies, _520
Beautiful orb! gathering as thou dost roll
The love which paves thy path along the skies:
THE EARTH:
I hear: I am as a drop of dew that dies.
DEMOGORGON:
Thou, Moon, which gazest on the nightly Earth
With wonder, as it gazes upon thee; _525
Whilst each to men, and beasts, and the swift birth
Of birds, is beauty, love, calm, harmony:
THE MOON:
I hear: I am a leaf shaken by thee!
DEMOGORGON:
Ye Kings of suns and stars, Daemons and Gods,
Ethereal Dominations, who possess _530
Elysian, windless, fortunate abodes
Beyond Heaven’s constellated wilderness:
A VOICE FROM ABOVE:
Our great Republic hears: we are blest, and bless.
DEMOGORGON:
Ye happy Dead, whom beams of brightest verse
Are clouds to hide, not colours to portray, _535
Whether your nature is that universe
Which once ye saw and suffered—
A VOICE: FROM BENEATH:
Or as they
Whom we have left, we change and pass away.
DEMOGORGON:
Ye elemental Genii, who have homes
From man’s high mind even to the central stone _540
Of sullen lead; from heaven’s star-fretted domes
To the dull weed some sea-worm battens on:
A CONFUSED VOICE:
We hear: thy words waken Oblivion.