Along the margin-sand large foot-marks went,
No further than to where his feet had stray’d,
And slept there since. Upon the sodden ground
His old right hand lay nerveless, listless, dead,
Unsceptred; and his realmless eyes were closed;
While his bow’d head seem’d list’ning to the Earth,
His ancient mother, for some comfort yet.
It seem’d no force could wake him from his place;
But there came one, who with a kindred hand
Touch’d his wide shoulders, after bending low
With reverence, though to one who knew it not.
She was a Goddess of the infant world;
By her in stature the tall Amazon
Had stood a pigmy’s height: she would have ta’en
Achilles by the hair and bent his neck;
Or with a finger stay’d Ixion’s wheel.
Her face was large as that of Memphian sphinx,
Pedestal’d haply in a palace court,
When sages look’d to Egypt for their lore.
But oh! how unlike marble was that face:
How beautiful, if sorrow had not made
Sorrow more beautiful than Beauty’s self.
There was a listening fear in her regard,
As if calamity had but begun;
As if the vanward clouds of evil days
Had spent their malice, and the sullen rear
Was with its stored thunder labouring up.
One hand she press’d upon that aching spot
Where beats the human heart, as if just there,
Though an immortal, she felt cruel pain:
The other upon Saturn’s bended neck
She laid, and to the level of his ear
Leaning with parted lips, some words she spake
In solemn tenour and deep organ tone:
Some mourning words, which in our feeble tongue
Would come in these like accents; O how frail
To that large utterance of the early Gods!
“Saturn, look up!—though wherefore, poor old King?
“I have no comfort for thee, no not one:
“I cannot say, “O wherefore sleepest thou?’
“For heaven is parted from thee, and the earth
“Knows thee not, thus afflicted, for a God;
“And ocean too, with all its solemn noise,
“Has from thy sceptre pass’d; and all the air
“Is emptied of thine hoary majesty.
“Thy thunder, conscious of the new command,
“Rumbles reluctant o’er our fallen house;
“And thy sharp lightning in unpractised hands
“Scorches and burns our once serene domain.
“O aching time! O moments big as years!
“All as ye pass swell out the monstrous truth,
“And press it so upon our weary griefs
“That unbelief has not a space to breathe.
“Saturn, sleep on:—O thoughtless, why did I
“Thus violate thy slumbrous solitude?
“Why should I ope thy melancholy eyes?
“Saturn, sleep on! while at thy feet I weep.”

135~212
This passion lifted him upon his feet,
And made his hands to struggle in the air,
His Druid locks to shake and ooze with sweat,
His eyes to fever out, his voice to cease.
He stood, and heard not Thea’s sobbing deep;
A little time, and then again he snatch’d
Utterance thus.—“But cannot I create?
“Cannot I form? Cannot I fashion forth
“Another world, another universe,
“To overbear and crumble this to nought?
“Where is another chaos? Where?”—That word
Found way unto Olympus, and made quake
The rebel three.—Thea was startled up,
And in her bearing was a sort of hope,
As thus she quick-voic’d spake, yet full of awe.
“This cheers our fallen house: come to our friends,
“O Saturn! come away, and give them heart;
“I know the covert, for thence came I hither.”
Thus brief; then with beseeching eyes she went
With backward footing through the shade a space:
He follow’d, and she turn’d to lead the way
Through aged boughs, that yielded like the mist
Which eagles cleave upmounting from their nest.
Meanwhile in other realms big tears were shed,
More sorrow like to this, and such like woe,
Too huge for mortal tongue or pen of scribe:
The Titans fierce, self hid, or prison-bound,
Groan’d for the old allegiance once more,
And listen’d in sharp pain for Saturn’s voice.
But one of the whole mammoth-brood still kept
His sov’reignty, and rule, and majesty;—
Blazing Hyperion on his orbed fire
Still sat, still snuff’d the incense, teeming up
From man to the sun’s God; yet unsecure:
For as among us mortals omens drear
Fright and perplex, so also shuddered he—
Not at dog’s howl, or gloom-bird’s hated screech,
Or the familiar visiting of one
Upon the first toll of his passing-bell,
Or prophesyings of the midnight lamp;
But horrors, portion’d to a giant nerve,
Oft made Hyperion ache. His palace bright
Bastion’d with pyramids of glowing gold,
And touch’d with shade of bronzed obelisks,
Glar’d a blood-red through all its thousand courts,
Arches, and domes, and fiery galleries;
And all its curtains of Aurorian clouds
Flush’d angerly: while sometimes eagle’s wings,
Unseen before by Gods or wondering men,
Darken’d the place; and neighing steeds were heard,
Not heard before by Gods or wondering men.
Also, when he would taste the spicy wreaths
Of incense, breath’d aloft from sacred hills,
Instead of sweets, his ample palate took
Savour of poisonous brass and metal sick:
And so, when harbour’d in the sleepy west,
After the full completion of fair day,—
For rest divine upon exalted couch
And slumber in the arms of melody,
He pac’d away the pleasant hours of ease
With stride colossal, on from hall to hall;
While far within each aisle and deep recess,
His winged minions in close clusters stood,
Amaz’d and full of fear; like anxious men
Who on wide plains gather in panting troops,
When earthquakes jar their battlements and towers.
Even now, while Saturn, rous’d from icy trance,
Went step for step with Thea through the woods,
Hyperion, leaving twilight in the rear,
Came slope upon the threshold of the west;
Then, as was wont, his palace-door flew ope
In smoothest silence, save what solemn tubes,
Blown by the serious Zephyrs, gave of sweet
And wandering sounds, slow-breathed melodies;
And like a rose in vermeil tint and shape,
In fragrance soft, and coolness to the eye,
That inlet to severe magnificence
Stood full blown, for the God to enter in.

Book 1结束，之后是book 2。

……大致内容？

101~345
As with us mortal men, the laden heart
Is persecuted more, and fever’d more,
When it is nighing to the mournful house
Where other hearts are sick of the same bruise;
So Saturn, as he walk’d into the midst,
Felt faint, and would have sunk among the rest,
But that he met Enceladus’s eye,
Whose mightiness, and awe of him, at once
Came like an inspiration; and he shouted,
“Titans, behold your God!” at which some groan’d;
Some started on their feet; some also shouted;
Some wept, some wail’d, all bow’d with reverence;
And Ops, uplifting her black folded veil,
Show’d her pale cheeks, and all her forehead wan,
Her eye-brows thin and jet, and hollow eyes.
There is a roaring in the bleak-grown pines
When Winter lifts his voice; there is a noise
Among immortals when a God gives sign,
With hushing finger, how he means to load
His tongue with the full weight of utterless thought,
With thunder, and with music, and with pomp:
Such noise is like the roar of bleak-grown pines;
Which, when it ceases in this mountain’d world,
No other sound succeeds; but ceasing here,
Among these fallen, Saturn’s voice therefrom
Grew up like organ, that begins anew
Its strain, when other harmonies, stopt short,
Leave the dinn’d air vibrating silverly.
Thus grew it up—“Not in my own sad breast,
“Which is its own great judge and searcher out,
“Can I find reason why ye should be thus:
“Not in the legends of the first of days,
“Studied from that old spirit-leaved book
“Which starry Uranus with finger bright
“Sav’d from the shores of darkness, when the waves
“Low-ebb’d still hid it up in shallow gloom;—
“And the which book ye know I ever kept
“For my firm-based footstool:—Ah, infirm!
“Not there, nor in sign, symbol, or portent
“Of element, earth, water, air, and fire,—
“At war, at peace, or inter-quarreling
“One against one, or two, or three, or all
“Each several one against the other three,
“As fire with air loud warring when rain-floods
“Drown both, and press them both against earth’s face,
“Where, finding sulphur, a quadruple wrath
“Unhinges the poor world;—not in that strife,
“Wherefrom I take strange lore, and read it deep,
“Can I find reason why ye should be thus:
“No, no-where can unriddle, though I search,
“And pore on Nature’s universal scroll
“Even to swooning, why ye, Divinities,
“The first-born of all shap’d and palpable Gods,
“Should cower beneath what, in comparison,
“Is untremendous might. Yet ye are here,
“O’erwhelm’d, and spurn’d, and batter’d, ye are here!
“O Titans, shall I say ‘Arise!’—Ye groan:
“Shall I say ‘Crouch!’—Ye groan. What can I then?
“O Heaven wide! O unseen parent dear!
“What can I? Tell me, all ye brethren Gods,
“How we can war, how engine our great wrath!
“O speak your counsel now, for Saturn’s ear
“Is all a-hunger’d. Thou, Oceanus,
“Ponderest high and deep; and in thy face
“I see, astonied, that severe content
“Which comes of thought and musing: give us help!”

So ended Saturn; and the God of the Sea,
Sophist and sage, from no Athenian grove,
But cogitation in his watery shades,
Arose, with locks not oozy, and began,
In murmurs, which his first-endeavouring tongue
Caught infant-like from the far-foamed sands.
“O ye, whom wrath consumes! who, passion-stung,
“Writhe at defeat, and nurse your agonies!
“Shut up your senses, stifle up your ears,
“My voice is not a bellows unto ire.
“Yet listen, ye who will, whilst I bring proof
“How ye, perforce, must be content to stoop:
“And in the proof much comfort will I give,
“If ye will take that comfort in its truth.
“We fall by course of Nature’s law, not force
“Of thunder, or of Jove. Great Saturn, thou
“Hast sifted well the atom-universe;
“But for this reason, that thou art the King,
“And only blind from sheer supremacy,
“One avenue was shaded from thine eyes,
“Through which I wandered to eternal truth.
“And first, as thou wast not the first of powers,
“So art thou not the last; it cannot be:
“Thou art not the beginning nor the end.
“From chaos and parental darkness came
“Light, the first fruits of that intestine broil,
“That sullen ferment, which for wondrous ends
“Was ripening in itself. The ripe hour came,
“And with it light, and light, engendering
“Upon its own producer, forthwith touch’d
“The whole enormous matter into life.
“Upon that very hour, our parentage,
“The Heavens and the Earth, were manifest:
“Then thou first-born, and we the giant-race,
“Found ourselves ruling new and beauteous realms.
“Now comes the pain of truth, to whom ’tis pain;
“O folly! for to bear all naked truths,
“And to envisage circumstance, all calm,
“That is the top of sovereignty. Mark well!
“As Heaven and Earth are fairer, fairer far
“Than Chaos and blank Darkness, though once chiefs;
“And as we show beyond that Heaven and Earth
“In form and shape compact and beautiful,
“In will, in action free, companionship,
“And thousand other signs of purer life;
“So on our heels a fresh perfection treads,
“A power more strong in beauty, born of us
“And fated to excel us, as we pass
“In glory that old Darkness: nor are we
“Thereby more conquer’d, than by us the rule
“Of shapeless Chaos. Say, doth the dull soil
“Quarrel with the proud forests it hath fed,
“And feedeth still, more comely than itself?
“Can it deny the chiefdom of green groves?
“Or shall the tree be envious of the dove
“Because it cooeth, and hath snowy wings
“To wander wherewithal and find its joys?
“We are such forest-trees, and our fair boughs
“Have bred forth, not pale solitary doves,
“But eagles golden-feather’d, who do tower
“Above us in their beauty, and must reign
“In right thereof; for ’tis the eternal law
“That first in beauty should be first in might:
“Yea, by that law, another race may drive
“Our conquerors to mourn as we do now.
“Have ye beheld the young God of the Seas,
“My dispossessor? Have ye seen his face?
“Have ye beheld his chariot, foam’d along
“By noble winged creatures he hath made?
“I saw him on the calmed waters scud,
“With such a glow of beauty in his eyes,
“That it enforc’d me to bid sad farewell
“To all my empire: farewell sad I took,
“And hither came, to see how dolorous fate
“Had wrought upon ye; and how I might best
“Give consolation in this woe extreme.
“Receive the truth, and let it be your balm.”
Whether through poz’d conviction, or disdain,
They guarded silence, when Oceanus
Left murmuring, what deepest thought can tell?
But so it was, none answer’d for a space,
Save one whom none regarded, Clymene;
And yet she answer’d not, only complain’d,
With hectic lips, and eyes up-looking mild,
Thus wording timidly among the fierce:
“O Father, I am here the simplest voice,
“And all my knowledge is that joy is gone,
“And this thing woe crept in among our hearts,
“There to remain for ever, as I fear:
“I would not bode of evil, if I thought
“So weak a creature could turn off the help
“Which by just right should come of mighty Gods;
“Yet let me tell my sorrow, let me tell
“Of what I heard, and how it made me weep,
“And know that we had parted from all hope.
“I stood upon a shore, a pleasant shore,
“Where a sweet clime was breathed from a land
“Of fragrance, quietness, and trees, and flowers.
“Full of calm joy it was, as I of grief;
“Too full of joy and soft delicious warmth;
“So that I felt a movement in my heart
“To chide, and to reproach that solitude
“With songs of misery, music of our woes;
“And sat me down, and took a mouthed shell
“And murmur’d into it, and made melody—
“O melody no more! for while I sang,
“And with poor skill let pass into the breeze
“The dull shell’s echo, from a bowery strand
“Just opposite, an island of the sea,
“There came enchantment with the shifting wind,
“That did both drown and keep alive my ears.
“I threw my shell away upon the sand,
“And a wave fill’d it, as my sense was fill’d
“With that new blissful golden melody.
“A living death was in each gush of sounds,
“Each family of rapturous hurried notes,
“That fell, one after one, yet all at once,
“Like pearl beads dropping sudden from their string:
“And then another, then another strain,
“Each like a dove leaving its olive perch,
“With music wing’d instead of silent plumes,
“To hover round my head, and make me sick
“Of joy and grief at once. Grief overcame,
“And I was stopping up my frantic ears,
“When, past all hindrance of my trembling hands,
“A voice came sweeter, sweeter than all tune,
“And still it cried, ‘Apollo! young Apollo!
“‘The morning-bright Apollo! young Apollo!’
“I fled, it follow’d me, and cried ‘Apollo!’
“O Father, and O Brethren, had ye felt
“Those pains of mine; O Saturn, hadst thou felt,
“Ye would not call this too indulged tongue
“Presumptuous, in thus venturing to be heard.”
So far her voice flow’d on, like timorous brook
That, lingering along a pebbled coast,
Doth fear to meet the sea: but sea it met,
And shudder’d; for the overwhelming voice
Of huge Enceladus swallow’d it in wrath:
The ponderous syllables, like sullen waves
In the half-glutted hollows of reef-rocks,
Came booming thus, while still upon his arm
He lean’d; not rising, from supreme contempt.
“Or shall we listen to the over-wise,
“Or to the over-foolish giant, Gods?
“Not thunderbolt on thunderbolt, till all
“That rebel Jove’s whole armoury were spent,
“Not world on world upon these shoulders piled,
“Could agonize me more than baby-words
“In midst of this dethronement horrible.
“Speak! roar! shout! yell! ye sleepy Titans all.
“Do ye forget the blows, the buffets vile?
“Are ye not smitten by a youngling arm?
“Dost thou forget, sham Monarch of the Waves,
“Thy scalding in the seas? What, have I rous’d
“Your spleens with so few simple words as these?
“O joy! for now I see ye are not lost:
“O joy! for now I see a thousand eyes
“Wide glaring for revenge!”—As this he said,
He lifted up his stature vast, and stood,
Still without intermission speaking thus:
“Now ye are flames, I’ll tell you how to burn,
“And purge the ether of our enemies;
“How to feed fierce the crooked stings of fire,
“And singe away the swollen clouds of Jove,
“Stifling that puny essence in its tent.
“O let him feel the evil he hath done;
“For though I scorn Oceanus’s lore,
“Much pain have I for more than loss of realms:
“The days of peace and slumberous calm are fled;
“Those days, all innocent of scathing war,
“When all the fair Existences of heaven
“Came open-eyed to guess what we would speak:—
“That was before our brows were taught to frown,
“Before our lips knew else but solemn sounds;
“That was before we knew the winged thing,
“Victory, might be lost, or might be won.
“And be ye mindful that Hyperion,
“Our brightest brother, still is undisgraced—
“Hyperion, lo! his radiance is here!”

然后是最后的Book 3。

“浓荫笼罩下，忧郁的溪谷深处，
远离山上早晨的健康的气息，
远离火热的中午，黄昏的明星，
白发的萨土恩坐着，静如山石，
像他巢穴周围岑寂般缄默；
树林叠着树林，就像云叠着云。

求问楼主这首诗是在哪本书上看到的?很多济慈的诗集上都没有海伯利安。