And canst thou mock mine agony, thus calm <br />In cloudless radiance, Queen of silver night? <br />Can you, ye flow'rets, spread your perfumed balm <br />Mid pearly gems of dew that shine so bright? <br />And you wild winds, thus can you sleep so still <br />Whilst throbs the tempest of my breast so high? <br />Can the fierce night-fiends rest on yonder hill, <br />And, in the eternal mansions of the sky, <br />Can the directors of the storm in powerless silence lie? <br /> <br />Hark! I hear music on the zephyr’s wing, <br />Louder it floats along the unruffled sky; <br />Some fairy sure has touched the viewless string-- <br />Now faint in distant air the murmurs die. <br />Awhile it stills the tide of agony. <br />Now--now it loftier swells--again stern woe <br />Arises with the awakening melody. <br />Again fierce torments, such as demons know, <br />In bitterer, feller tide, on this torn bosom flow. <br /> <br />Arise ye sightless spirits of the storm, <br />Ye unseen minstrels of the aereal song, <br />Pour the fierce tide around this lonely form, <br />And roll the tempest's wildest swell along. <br />Dart the red lightning, wing the forked flash, <br />Pour from thy cloud-formed hills the thunder’s roar; <br />Arouse the whirlwind--and let ocean dash <br />In fiercest tumult on the rocking shore,-- <br />Destroy this life or let earth's fabric be no more. <br /> <br />Yes! every tie that links me here is dead; <br />Mysterious Fate, thy mandate I obey, <br />Since hope and peace, and joy, for aye are fled, <br />I come, terrific power, I come away. <br />Then o'er this ruined soul let spirits of Hell, <br />In triumph, laughing wildly, mock its pain; <br />And though with direst pangs mine heart-strings swell, <br />I’ll echo back their deadly yells again, <br />Cursing the power that ne’er made aught in vain.<br /><br />Percy Bysshe Shelley<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/despair-77/
