It shows the influence not only of the Book of Job, but also of the Prologue in Heaven to Faust, upon his mind.
The lyric movement of the Chorus from "Hellas", which I propose to quote, marks the highest point of Shelley's rhythmical invention.

As for the matter expressed in it, we must not forget that these stanzas are written for a Chorus of Greek captive women, whose creed does not prevent their feeling a regret for the "mightier forms of an older, austerer worship." Shelley's note reminds the reader, with characteristic caution and frankness, that "the popular notions of Christianity are represented in this Chorus as true in their relation to the worship they superseded, and that which in all probability they will supersede, without considering their merits in a relation more universal." Worlds on worlds are rolling over From creation to decay, Like the bubbles on a river Sparkling, bursting, borne away.
But they are still immortal Who, through birth's orient portal, And death's dark chasm hurrying to and fro, Clothe their unceasing flight In the brief dust and light Gathered around their chariots as they go; New shapes they still may weave, New gods, new laws receive; Bright or dim are they, as the robes they last On Death's bare ribs had cast.
A power from the unknown God, A Promethan conqueror came; Like a triumphal path he trod The thorns of death and shame.
A mortal shape to him Was like the vapour dim Which the orient planet animates with light.
Hell, Sin, and Slavery came, Like bloodhounds mild and tame, Nor preyed until their Lord had taken flight.
The moon of Mahomet Arose, and it shall set: While blazoned as on heaven's immortal noon The cross leads generations on.
Swift as the radiant shapes of sleep From one whose dreams are paradise, Fly, when the fond wretch wakes to weep, And day peers forth with her blank eyes; So fleet, so faint, so fair, The Powers of earth and air Fled from the folding star of Bethlehem: Apollo, Pan, and Love And even Olympian Jove, Grew weak, for killing Truth had glared on them.
Our hills, and seas, and streams, Dispeopled of their dreams, Their waters turned to blood, their dew to tears, Wailed for the golden years.
In the autumn of this year Shelley paid Lord Byron a visit at Ravenna, where he made acquaintance with the Countess Guiccoli.

It was then settled that Byron, who had formed the project of starting a journal to be called "The Liberal" in concert with Leigh Hunt, should himself settle in Pisa.

Leigh Hunt was to join his brother poets in the same place.

The prospect gave Shelley great pleasure, for he was sincerely attached to Hunt; and though he would not promise contributions to the journal, partly lest his name should bring discredit on it, and partly because he did not choose to appear before the world as a hanger-on of Byron's, he thoroughly approved of a plan which would be profitable to his friend by bringing him into close relation with the most famous poet of the age.