V.

In ancient times an iron Fate lorded it, with dumb force, over the
widespread families of men. A gloomy oppression swathed their anxious
souls: the Earth was boundless, the abode of the gods and their home. From
eternal ages stood its mysterious structure. Beyond the red hills of the
morning, in the sacred bosom of the sea, dwelt the sun, the
all-enkindling, live luminary. An aged giant upbore the happy world.
Prisoned beneath mountains lay the first-born sons of mother Earth,
helpless in their destroying fury against the new, glorious race of gods,
and their kindred, glad-hearted men. Ocean's dusky, green abyss was the
lap of a goddess. In the crystal grottoes revelled a wanton folk. Rivers,
trees, flowers, and beasts had human wits. Sweeter tasted the wine, poured
out by youth impersonated; a god was in the grape-clusters; a loving,
motherly goddess upgrew in the full golden sheaves; love's sacred carousal
was a sweet worship of the fairest of the goddesses. Life revelled through
the centuries like one spring-time, an ever-variegated festival of the
children of heaven and the dwellers on the earth. All races childlike
adored the ethereal, thousandfold flame, as the one sublimest thing in the
world.

It was but a fancy, a horrible dream-shape--

That fearsome to the merry tables strode,
And wrapt the spirit in wild consternation.
The gods themselves here counsel knew nor showed
To fill the stifling heart with consolation.
Mysterious was the monster's pathless road,
Whoose rage would heed no prayer and no oblation;