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Prometheus.
Lo, in very deed, no more in mere talk
Does the earth now rock,
And a cavernous boom of thunders rolls near,
And the forked fierce blaze of the lightning glares out,
And whirlwinds chase round the eddying dust, 1120 (1105)
And the blasts of all the winds leap abroad
At war each with each in contending gusts,
And the sky and the sea are mingled in storm—
Such tempest from Zeus in our sight strides on
Towards me as though to daunt me with fear. 1125 (1111)
Oh mother mine, thou revered one, Oh sky
That bear'st in due round light, common to all,
Do ye see me what wrong I endure?
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