No More Learning

15.
The noon was calm and bright:--around that column
The overhanging sky and circling sea _1235
Spread forth in silentness profound and solemn
The darkness of brief frenzy cast on me,
So that I knew not my own misery:
The islands and the mountains in the day
Like clouds reposed afar; and I could see _1240
The town among the woods below that lay,
And the dark rocks which bound the bright and glassy bay.

16.
It was so calm, that scarce the feathery weed
Sown by some eagle on the topmost stone
Swayed in the air:--so bright, that noon did breed _1245
No shadow in the sky beside mine own--
Mine, and the shadow of my chain alone.
Below, the smoke of roofs involved in flame
Rested like night, all else was clearly shown
In that broad glare; yet sound to me none came, _1250
But of the living blood that ran within my frame.

17.
The peace of madness fled, and ah, too soon!
A ship was lying on the sunny main,
Its sails were flagging in the breathless noon--
Its shadow lay beyond--that sight again _1255
Waked, with its presence, in my tranced brain
The stings of a known sorrow, keen and cold:
I knew that ship bore Cythna o'er the plain
Of waters, to her blighting slavery sold,
And watched it with such thoughts as must remain untold. _1260

18.
I watched until the shades of evening wrapped
Earth like an exhalation--then the bark
Moved, for that calm was by the sunset snapped.
It moved a speck upon the Ocean dark:
Soon the wan stars came forth, and I could mark _1265
Its path no more! --I sought to close mine eyes,
But like the balls, their lids were stiff and stark;
I would have risen, but ere that I could rise,
My parched skin was split with piercing agonies.

19.
I gnawed my brazen chain, and sought to sever _1270
Its adamantine links, that I might die:
O Liberty! forgive the base endeavour,
Forgive me, if, reserved for victory,
The Champion of thy faith e'er sought to fly.
--
That starry night, with its clear silence, sent _1275
Tameless resolve which laughed at misery
Into my soul--linked remembrance lent
To that such power, to me such a severe content.

20.
To breathe, to be, to hope, or to despair
And die, I questioned not; nor, though the Sun _1280
Its shafts of agony kindling through the air
Moved over me, nor though in evening dun,
Or when the stars their visible courses run,
Or morning, the wide universe was spread
In dreary calmness round me, did I shun _1285
Its presence, nor seek refuge with the dead
From one faint hope whose flower a dropping poison shed.

21.
Two days thus passed--I neither raved nor died--
Thirst raged within me, like a scorpion's nest
Built in mine entrails; I had spurned aside _1290
The water-vessel, while despair possessed
My thoughts, and now no drop remained! The uprest
Of the third sun brought hunger--but the crust
Which had been left, was to my craving breast
Fuel, not food. I chewed the bitter dust, _1295
And bit my bloodless arm, and licked the brazen rust.

22.
My brain began to fail when the fourth morn
Burst o'er the golden isles--a fearful sleep,
Which through the caverns dreary and forlorn
Of the riven soul, sent its foul dreams to sweep _1300
With whirlwind swiftness--a fall far and deep,--
A gulf, a void, a sense of senselessness--
These things dwelt in me, even as shadows keep
Their watch in some dim charnel's loneliness,
A shoreless sea, a sky sunless and planetless! _1305

23.
The forms which peopled this terrific trance
I well remember--like a choir of devils,
Around me they involved a giddy dance;
Legions seemed gathering from the misty levels
Of Ocean, to supply those ceaseless revels, _1310
Foul, ceaseless shadows:--thought could not divide
The actual world from these entangling evils,
Which so bemocked themselves, that I descried
All shapes like mine own self, hideously multiplied.

24.
The sense of day and night, of false and true, _1315
Was dead within me. Yet two visions burst
That darkness--one, as since that hour I knew,
Was not a phantom of the realms accursed,
Where then my spirit dwelt--but of the first
I know not yet, was it a dream or no. _1320
But both, though not distincter, were immersed
In hues which, when through memory's waste they flow,
Make their divided streams more bright and rapid now.

25.