ODIVINE air! Breezes on swift bird-wings, Ye river fountains, and of ocean-waves The multitudinous laughter! Mother earth! And thou all-seeing circle of the sun, Behold what I, a God, from Gods endure! Look down upon my shame, The cruel wrong that racks my frame, The grinding anguish that shall waste my strength, Till time's ten thousand years have measured out their length! He hath devised these chains, The new throned potentate who reigns, Chief of the chieftains of the Blest. Ah me! The woe which is and that which yet shall be I wail; and question make of these wide skies When shall the star of my deliverance rise. And yet -- and yet -- exactly I foresee All that shall come to pass; no sharp surprise Of pain shall overtake me; what's determined Bear, as I can, I must, knowing the might Of strong Necessity is unconquerable. But touching my fate silence and speech alike Are unsupportable. For boons bestowed On mortal men I am straitened in these bonds. I sought the fount of fire in hollow reed Hid privily, a measureless resource For man, and mighty teacher of all arts. This is the crime that I must expiate Hung here in chains, nailed 'neath the open sky. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IRELAND by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR THE COUNTY OF MAYO by THOMAS LAVELLE A GLEAM OF SUNSHINE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW ENVOY: 5. TO MY NAME-CHILD by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THREE THINGS by JOSEPH AUSLANDER DELIVERANCE by JOHN KENDRICK BANGS CHRISTMAS by CHARLOTTE LOUISE BERTLESEN IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: LIBERTY, EQUALITY ... by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 46 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |