Classic Poem

PROSERPINE

Ah, Proserpine, the gods were good to you,
Though Pluto held you in his drear domains,
For it was love who bound you in soft chains,
Making the Styx glow with translucent hue, —
And Hades' cavern roofed with deepening blue, —
And Death's sad king, grand by the bitter pains,
That smote the dwellers on his arid plains, —
And Cerberus a faithful slave and true.
The violets that gemmed Sicilian vales,
The nightingales there murmuring to the rose,
The crimson wine that once your lips had known,
And Pan's sweet pipings sounding down the gales,
Faded along the mist where Lethe flows,
When your fair beauty glorified hell's throne.