Beneath this crag,
Huge as despair, as if in weariness
The melancholy mountain yawns."--THE CENCI.
Shelly says, "An idea in this speech was suggested by a most sublime
passage in 'El Purgatorio de San Patricio' of Calderon." The same
idea is to be found in "Amor despues de la Muerte," "Los dos amantes
del Cielo," and other dramas of Calderon.
[end of footnote]
This, then, by mournful cypress trees surrounded,
Between the lips of rocks at either side,
Reveals a monstrous neck of length unbounded,
Whose tangled hair is scantily supplied
By the wild herbs that there the wind hath grounded,
A gloom whose depths no sun has ever tried,
A space, a void, the gladsome day's affright,
The fatal refuge of the frozen night.
I wished to enter there, to make my dwelling
Within the cave; but here my accents fail,
My troubled voice, against my will rebelling.
Doth interrupt so terrible a tale.--
What novel horror, all the past excelling,
Must I relate to you, with cheeks all pale,
Without cold terror on my bosom seizing,
And even my voice, my breath, my pulses freezing?
I scarcely had o'ercome my hesitation,
And gone within the cavern's vault profound,
When I heard wails of hopeless lamentation,
Despairing shrieks that shook the walls around,
Curses, and blasphemy, and desperation,
Dark crimes avowed that would even hell astound,
Which heaven, I think, in order not to hear,
Had hid within this prison dark and drear.
Pages:
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77