Frankenstein

I sought the secret of life. In midnight, frost, and books. With charnel lore... And solitary labour, I fixed my looks On what no man should frame! The form stood up; I shuddered—then Its yellow skin, its watery eyes, drove me from the chamber again! I had made a being. Yet my heart recoiled in dread: Not triumph, but a dreary night of lamentation... In my head. The dream I named a blessing soured at the touch of air, I found no new species to adorn me, only guilt laid bare. And where the body seemed abhorrent, the deeper wound began— In the mind that gave it being, and then fled the work of man. Learn from me! If not by my precepts, at least by my example! I ought to be thy Adam! But I am rather the fallen angel! Behold the maker, mastered by the thing he would not name: I made my own deep misery, and taught the dead to claim my shame. I fled the land. Yet not the voice that followed through the snow: I am thy creature; I ought to be thy Adam... Soft and low. On glacier, torrent, and bleak height it haunted every step. I heard in that demand for mercy all I had neglected, kept At one remove from pity. Then terror answered pain— And in that frozen interview... I lost both rest and name. Beware! For I am fearless, and therefore powerful! Those words return like judgement in the dark, inexorable. Not innocence, but knowledge bred the curse I could not bar: The heart that would not cherish life must learn what monsters are! Learn from me! If not by my precepts, at least by my example! Beware! For I am fearless, and therefore powerful! Behold the maker, mastered by the thing he would not name! I made my own deep misery, and taught the dead to claim my shame! Seek not glory in forbidden fires. Shun ambition’s cold desire. Learn—before the dark replies. And beware.