IV. The Air

HERMES (returning to Olympus).

AS lonely as the tower that he inhabits,

As firm and cold as are the crags about him,

Prometheus stands. The thunderbolts of Zeus

Alone can move him; but the tender heart

Of Epimetheus, burning at white heat,

Hammers and flames like all his brother’s forges!

Now as an arrow from Hyperion’s bow,

My errand done, I fly, I float, I soar

Into the air, returning to Olympus.

O joy of motion! O delight to cleave

The infinite realms of space, the liquid ether,

Through the warm sunshine and the cooling cloud,

Myself as light as sunbeam or as cloud!

With one touch of my swift and wingèd feet,

I spurn the solid earth, and leave it rocking

As rocks the bough from which a bird takes wing.