Burning so
The limbs encased in fat, and the long chine,
I led my mortals on to an art abstruse,
And cleared their eyes to the image in the fire,
Erst filmed in dark. Enough said now of this:
For the other helps of man hid underground,
The iron and the brass, silver and gold,
Can any dare affirm he found them out
Before me? None, I know, unless he choose
To lie in his vaunt. In one word learn the whole:
That all arts come to mortals from Prometheus.
Aeschylus: _Prometheus_. [Mrs. Browning's
translation.]
2
(_For comparison with the preceding_)
Warmly this argument with others oft
Have I disputed, who assert that ill
To mortal man assign'd outweighs the good.
Far otherwise I deem, that good is dealt
To man in larger portions: were it not,
We could not bear the light of life.
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