Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Prometheus, Or, The Poet's Forethought. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First)
Of Prometheus, how undaunted
On Olympus' shining bastions
His audacious foot he planted,
Myths are told and songs are chanted,
Full of promptings and suggestions.
Beautiful is the tradition
Of that flight through heavenly portals,
The old classic superstition
Of the theft and the transmission
Of the fire of the Immortals!
First the deed of noble daring,
Born of heavenward aspiration,
Then the fire with mortals sharing,
Then the vulture,--the despairing
Cry of pain on crags Caucasian.
All is but a symbol painted
Of the Poet, Prophet, Seer;
Only those are crowned and sainted
Who with grief have been acquainted,
Making nations nobler, freer.
In their feverish exultations,
In their triumph and their yearning,
In their passionate pulsations,
In their words among the nations,
The Promethean fire is burning.
Shall it, then, be unavailing,
All this toil for human culture?
Through the cloud-rack, dark and trailing,
Must they see above them sailing
O'er life's barren crags the vulture?
Such a fate as this was Dante's,
By defeat and exile maddened;
Thus were Milton and Cervantes,
Nature's priests and Corybantes,
By affliction touched and saddened.
But the glories so transcendent
That around their memories cluster,
And, on all their steps attendant,
Make their darkened lives resplendent
With such gleams of inward lustre!
All the melodies mysterious,
Through the dreary darkness chanted;
Thoughts in attitudes imperious,
Voices soft, and deep, and serious,
Words that whispered, songs that haunted!
All the soul in rapt suspension,
All the quivering, palpitating
Chords of life in utmost tension,
With the fervor of invention,
With the rapture of creating!
Ah, Prometheus! heaven-scaling!
In such hours of exultation
Even the faintest heart, unquailing,
Might behold the vulture sailing
Round the cloudy crags Caucasian!
Though to all there is not given
Strength for such sublime endeavor,
Thus to scale the walls of heaven,
And to leaven with fiery leaven
All the hearts of men forever;
Yet all bards, whose hearts unblighted
Honor and believe the presage,
Hold aloft their torches lighted,
Gleaming through the realms benighted,
As they onward bear the message!
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow's Other Poems
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Prometheus, Or, The Poet's Forethought. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The First) by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
- 04 Tongues Made Of Glass, Shaun Shane
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- If, Rudyard Kipling
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- I Don't Know If History Repeats Itself, Yehuda Amichai
- Limerick: There was a young person whose.., Edward Lear
- school, logan dillie
- THE MOMENT (BARACK HUSSAIN OBAMA’S INAUG.., sania harris
- Account, Czeslaw Milosz
Poem of the Day
- Winds Of Winter, Luo Zhihai
- Uncle Styopa part2 by N. Mickhalkov, Yuri Starostin
- Secret Loves, Sandra Feldman
- Structural Designs, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Winter, Sara Grace Je'tom Bradley
- Life's trash, Yisel Chong
- I Just, Michael P. McParland
- What She Is, Levi Crum
- I Am So Tired, Michael P. McParland
- Sacrafice, Levi Crum