In unvanquishable number,

Princes, the dregs of their dull race, who flow

Through public scorn, − mud from a muddy spring. −

Rulers who neither see, nor feel, nor know,

But leech-like to their fainting country cling,

Till they drop, blind in blood, without a blow, −

A people starved and stabbed in the untilled field, −

An army, which liberticide and prey

Makes as a two-edged sword to all who wield, −

Golden and sanguine laws which tempt and slay;

Religion Christless, Godless − a book sealed;

A Senate, − Time's worst statute unrepealed, −

Are graves, from which a glorious Phantom may

Burst, to illumine our tempestuous day.

Characteristically, this more than bleak poem ands on a note of hope. Shelley believed in the future of mankind and looked forward to the day when Intellectual Beauty would free "this world from its dark slavery". This hope fills his youthful poem Queen Mab (1813) and his later drama Prometheus Unbound (1818). The immortal Titan was doomed by a tyrannical god to an eternity of suffering for having given fire to men. But by the end of the drama he is released from his agony and the spirits of earth, sea and air rejoice in his liberation. Love of freedom and hatred of oppression live even in the gloomy tragedy of the Cenci (1819). In the poem The Revolt of Islam (1818), the leaders of the Revolt, the lovers Laon and Cythna, die. But clearly as Shelley saw the difficulties standing in the way of Revolution, he never lost his faith in its ultimate victory. In his political lyrics and in the Masque of Anarchy he calls on the people:

Rise like lions after slumber

In unvanquishable number,

Shake your chains to earth like drew…

Ye are many − they are few.

And yet, despite his optimistic view of history and its future evolution, Shelley's intimate lyrical poetry is very often deeply sad, almost tragic: he was an exile from his own country and lived long years in Italy; he was so much ahead of his time, both in literary theory and practice, that his poetry was understood by no more than a small group of people; his endeavours to take steps towards the realization of his political ideals collapsed, and the thought that nothing he wrote ever reached the minds of his readers was increasingly painful to him.

Grief finds its way into many of his lyrics, such as Song ("Rarely, rarely comest thou, Spirit of Delight", 1821), Time ("Unfathomable Sea! Whose waves are years", 1821), A Lament ("O world! O life! O time!", 1821). Here are two poems written in that vein.

MUTABILITY (1821)

I

The flower that smiles to-day

To-morrow dies;

All that we wish to stay

Tempts and then flies.

What is this world's delight?

Lightning that mocks the night,

Brief even as bright.

II

Virtue, how frail it is!

Friendship how rare!

Love, how it sells poor bliss

For proud despair!

But we, though they soon fall,

Survive their joy, and all

Which ours we call.

III

Whilst skies are blue and bright,

Whilst flowers are gay,

Whilst eyes that change ere night

Make glad the day;

Whilst yet the calm hours creep,

Dream thou − and from thy sleep

Then wake to weep.

A DIRGE (1822)

Rough wind, that moanest loud

Grief too sad for song;

Wild wind, when sullen cloud

Knells all the night long;

Sad storm, whose tears are vain,

Bare woods, whose branches strain,

Deep caves and dreary main, −

Wail, for the world's wrong!

These poems are the wording of a romantic poet's vivid sense of the world's wrong and of his own forced isolation and helplessness. Shelley's revolutionary spirit is at its finest in the drama of Prometheus. It is inspired by the tragedy Prometheus Bound of the Greek dramatist Aeschylus (525 − 456 B.C.). Ancient Greece exercised a particular fascination upon the younger romantics as the birthplace of freedom and beauty. They infused the myths of old times with feelings and ideas that were wholly modern.

PROMETHEUS UNBOUND

(1818)

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 886