Essay Ideas On Prometheus Bound Example For Students

Essay Ideas On Prometheus Bound A monologue from the play by Percy Bysshe Shelley NOTE: This monologue is reprinted from Prometheus Unbound; A Lyrical Drama in Four Acts with Other Poems. Percy Bysshe Shelley. London: C and J Ollier, 1820. PANTHEA: With our sea-sister at his feet I slept.The mountain mists, condensing at our voiceUnder the moon, had spread their snowy flakes,From the keen ice shielding our linked sleep.Then two dreams came. One, I remember not.But in the other his pale wound-worn limbsFell from Prometheus, and the azure nightGrew radiant with the glory of that formWhich lives unchanged within, and his voice fellLike music which makes giddy the dim brain,Faint with intoxication of keen joy:Sister of her whose footsteps pave the worldWith loveliness—more fair than aught but her,Whose shadow thou art—lift thine eyes on me.I lifted them: the overpowering lightOf that immortal shape was shadowed oerBy love; which, from his soft and flowing limbs,And passion-parted lips, and keen, faint eyes,Steamed forth like vaporous fire; an atmosphereWhich wrapped me in its all-dissolving power,As the warm ether of the morning sunWraps ere it drinks some cloud of wandering dew.I saw not, heard not, moved no t, only feltHis presence flow and mingle through my bloodTill it became his life, and his grew mine,And I was thus absorbed, until it passed,And like the vapours when the sun sinks down,Gathering again in drops upon the pines,And tremulous as they, in the deep nightMy being was condensed; and as the raysOf thought were slowly gathered, I could hearHis voice, whose accents lingered ere they diedLike footsteps of weak melody: thy nameAmong the many sounds alone I heardOf what might be articulate; though stillI listened through the night when sound was none.Ione wakened then, and said to me:Canst thou divine what troubles me to-night?I always knew, what I desired before,Nor ever found delight to wish in vain.But now I cannot tell thee what I seek;I know not; something sweet, since it is sweetEven to desire; it is thy sport, false sister;Thou hast discovered some enchantment old,Whose spells have stolen my spirit as I sleptAnd mingled it with thine: for when just nowWe kissed, I felt wi thin thy parted lipsThe sweet air that sustained me, and the warmthOf the life-blood, for loss of which I faint,Quivered between our intertwining arms.I answered not, for the Eastern star grew pale,But fled to thee.