He, tho' he dwelt in seeming night, Scattered imperishable light Around: and to the regions of the day Sent his winged thoughts away, And bade them search the ways on high For the bright flame of poetry. ('Tis to adventurous spirits given Alone, who dare themselves obey, And look at the face of the inmost heaven.)
He saw the burning fire that keeps In the unfathomable deeps Its powers for ever: and made a sign To the morning prince divine, Who came across the sulfurous flood Obedient to that master-call; And, in angel-beauty, stood Proud on his star-lit pedestal.
Then, the mighty limner drew, And tinted with a skyey hue, The king of all the damned; the same Who headlong from the empyrean came,
With all his fiery cherubim Blasted, (and millions fell with him:) He saw the dreary regions where Eternal Chaos sate, and there Learnt secrets of the whispering gloom, And faced the father of the tomb, Orcus, and many an awful thing That come, in wild dreams hovering,
Tumult and Chance and Discord — Fame— And heard and saw "the dreaded name Of Demogorgon;" and his soul Felt the shadowy darkness roll From Night's throne; and then he told To man those signs and wonders old.
