APOLLO STANDS BESIDE HIM. by Percy Bysshe Shelley: Summary, Meaning & Analysis
This dialogue features Apollo, the god of the sun and poetry, conversing with Ocean in Act III of Shelley's verse drama *Prometheus Unbound*.
The poem
OCEAN: He fell, thou sayest, beneath his conqueror’s frown? APOLLO: Ay, when the strife was ended which made dim The orb I rule, and shook the solid stars, The terrors of his eye illumined heaven With sanguine light, through the thick ragged skirts _5 Of the victorious darkness, as he fell: Like the last glare of day’s red agony, Which, from a rent among the fiery clouds, Burns far along the tempest-wrinkled deep. OCEAN: He sunk to the abyss? To the dark void? _10 APOLLO: An eagle so caught in some bursting cloud On Caucasus, his thunder-baffled wings Entangled in the whirlwind, and his eyes Which gazed on the undazzling sun, now blinded By the white lightning, while the ponderous hail _15 Beats on his struggling form, which sinks at length Prone, and the aereal ice clings over it. OCEAN: Henceforth the fields of heaven-reflecting sea Which are my realm, will heave, unstained with blood, Beneath the uplifting winds, like plains of corn _20 Swayed by the summer air; my streams will flow Round many-peopled continents, and round Fortunate isles; and from their glassy thrones Blue Proteus and his humid nymphs shall mark The shadow of fair ships, as mortals see _25 The floating bark of the light-laden moon With that white star, its sightless pilot’s crest, Borne down the rapid sunset’s ebbing sea; Tracking their path no more by blood and groans, And desolation, and the mingled voice _30 Of slavery and command; but by the light Of wave-reflected flowers, and floating odours, And music soft, and mild, free, gentle voices, And sweetest music, such as spirits love. NOTES: _22 many-peopled B; many peopled 1820. _26 light-laden B; light laden 1820. APOLLO: And I shall gaze not on the deeds which make _35 My mind obscure with sorrow, as eclipse Darkens the sphere I guide; but list, I hear The small, clear, silver lute of the young Spirit That sits i’ the morning star. NOTE: _39 i’ the B, edition 1839; on the 1820. OCEAN: Thou must away; Thy steeds will pause at even, till when farewell: _40 The loud deep calls me home even now to feed it With azure calm out of the emerald urns Which stand for ever full beside my throne. Behold the Nereids under the green sea, Their wavering limbs borne on the wind-like stream, _45 Their white arms lifted o’er their streaming hair With garlands pied and starry sea-flower crowns, Hastening to grace their mighty sister’s joy. [A SOUND OF WAVES IS HEARD.] It is the unpastured sea hungering for calm. Peace, monster; I come now. Farewell. APOLLO: Farewell. _50 SCENE 3.3:
This dialogue features Apollo, the god of the sun and poetry, conversing with Ocean in Act III of Shelley's verse drama *Prometheus Unbound*. They’re celebrating the downfall of Jupiter, the tyrant god who kept Prometheus imprisoned, and eagerly anticipating a new era of peace and freedom. Imagine it as two cosmic forces reconnecting after a long conflict, reflecting on how much the world will change now that the bully has been vanquished.
Line-by-line
OCEAN: He fell, thou sayest, beneath his conqueror's frown?
APOLLO: Ay, when the strife was ended which made dim / The orb I rule...
OCEAN: He sunk to the abyss? To the dark void?
APOLLO: An eagle so caught in some bursting cloud / On Caucasus...
OCEAN: Henceforth the fields of heaven-reflecting sea / Which are my realm, will heave, unstained with blood...
APOLLO: And I shall gaze not on the deeds which make / My mind obscure with sorrow...
OCEAN: Thou must away; / Thy steeds will pause at even, till when farewell...
Tone & mood
The tone shifts from a sense of awe and barely-contained shock at the beginning to a genuinely warm and relieved feeling by the end. Apollo's dialogue uses grand, storm-lit imagery—his lines evoke the sensation of witnessing a catastrophe from above. In contrast, Ocean's lengthy central speech is softer and more sensory, even tender. By the final exchange, the mood has transformed into something uncommon in Shelley: quiet contentment. There's no irony or melancholy lurking beneath the surface. These two gods are just happy.
Symbols & metaphors
- The fallen eagle — Jupiter's collapse is likened to an eagle—his own emblem—brought down by a storm on the Caucasus, the very mountain where Prometheus suffered. This symbol twists the tyrant's power against him: what once soared is now trapped in ice.
- Blood-red sunset / last glare of day's red agony — Jupiter's last moment of breathtaking intensity as he descends. The fading light is striking yet fierce, embodying the contradiction of a formidable evil: even in its demise, it remains stunning and perilous.
- Wave-reflected flowers and floating odours — The new world's navigation system replaces blood and groans. These sensory details—flowers, scents, music—represent a civilization that's moved beyond domination and war.
- The silver lute of the young Spirit — Art and poetry represent the sound of a liberated world. Apollo, the god of poetry, can now hear music instead of suffering. The lute is small and clear—intimate, not triumphant—which perfectly captures Shelley’s idea of what freedom truly sounds like.
- The emerald urns beside Ocean's throne — Ocean's duty to "feed" the sea with calm from these urns implies that peace isn't just a passive state — it's something that requires active nurturing in the world, a continuous expression of care rather than a single achievement.
- The Nereids with garlands — The sea-nymphs rushing in to celebrate embody the natural joy of a world embracing a new era. Their garlands of multicolored flowers and starry sea crowns evoke a sense of beauty that is both plentiful and freely offered.
Historical context
This passage is Scene 3 of Act III of *Prometheus Unbound* (1820), a lyrical drama by Shelley that reinterprets the Greek myth of Prometheus. In the original story, Prometheus is eventually rescued by Hercules. However, Shelley changes the ending: Prometheus gains his freedom not through force but by choosing not to hate his oppressor, leading to the downfall of Jupiter's tyranny from within. He wrote the play in Italy between 1818 and 1819, during a time of significant political repression in Europe following the Napoleonic Wars. The drama serves as his strongest argument that true liberation comes from inner moral change rather than violent revolution. This scene, a short intermission between two gods, acts as a cosmic pause: the war has ended, and the universe is reflecting on what peace truly entails.
FAQ
It isn't a standalone poem; rather, it's Scene 3 of Act III from Shelley's verse drama *Prometheus Unbound* (1820). This scene features a brief dialogue between Apollo and Ocean, two divine characters witnessing Jupiter's fall and Prometheus's liberation.
Both are Titans or elder gods who existed before Jupiter's reign and have observed his tyranny with concern. Apollo governs the sun and is linked to poetry and light; Ocean oversees the seas. Shelley employs them as cosmic commentators—they possess the viewpoint to understand what Jupiter's downfall signifies for the entire universe, not just for humanity.
Apollo compares Jupiter's fall to an eagle caught in a fierce storm—its wings tangled in the whirlwind, eyes blinded by flashes of lightning, body battered by hail, and ultimately frozen. The eagle, which symbolizes Jupiter's power, makes the image all the more ironic. The Caucasus is the mountain where Prometheus was chained and tortured for centuries, so placing Jupiter's symbolic defeat there adds a sharp twist to the narrative.
Under Jupiter's reign, civilization thrived on conquest, slavery, and war—the sea became a highway for empire and violence. Ocean suggests that in the new age, ships will instead navigate by beauty: reflected flowers, drifting scents, music, and free voices. This reflects Shelley's vision of a world where human movement is inspired by joy rather than domination.
It is the music of the morning star—a spirit linked to Venus, dawn, and fresh starts. After watching human suffering for so long, Apollo can finally focus on something delicate and beautiful instead of just the horrors. The lute being "small" and "silver" instead of grand and golden is intentional: Shelley's liberated world feels intimate, not triumphant.
It’s a powerful personification: the sea, like any living being under oppression, has been restless and stirred up. Now, it longs for tranquility. Ocean’s role is to bring it calm from his "emerald urns" — a lovely image of peace that requires active nurturing and pouring into the world.
Shelley was writing during a time of harsh political repression in Europe, and *Prometheus Unbound* presents his belief that true liberation arises from rejecting hatred and nurturing inner freedom, rather than through violent revolution. This scene illustrates what the world appears like *after* that transformation: it's not about a victorious military triumph, but rather a serene, sensory peace where nature, art, and free expressions take the place of bloodshed and authority.
It feels more relieved than triumphant. There are no grand celebrations. The two gods converse softly, almost affectionately, and the scene concludes with a simple double "Farewell." Shelley appears to suggest that true peace doesn’t make a lot of noise — it resonates like a silver lute, or gentle waves, or the quiet voices of free people.