Prometheus. Monarch of Gods and Dæmons, and all SpiritsBut One, who throng those bright and rolling worldsWhich Thou and I alone of living thingsBehold with sleepless eyes! regard this EarthMade multitudinous with thy slaves, whom thouRequitest for knee-worship, prayer, and praise,And toil, and hecatombs of broken hearts,With fear and self-contempt and barren hope.Whilst me, who am thy foe, eyeless in hate,Hast thou made reign and triumph, to thy scorn,O'er mine own misery and thy vain revenge.Three thousand years of sleep-unsheltered hours,And moments aye divided by keen pangsTill they seemed years, torture and solitude,Scorn and despair,—these...
