Song Of Proserpine |
|
|
|
Sacred Goddess, Mother Earth,
Thou from whose immortal bosom
Gods and men and beasts have birth,
Leaf and blade, and bud and blossom,
Breathe thine influence most divine
On thine own child, Proserpine.
If with mists of evening dew
Thou dost nourish these young flowers
Till they grow in scent and hue
Fairest children of the Hours,
Breathe thine influence most divine
On thine own child, Proserpine.
|
|
Comments of this poem (0)
No comments
Please, comment this poem
More `Percy Bysshe Shelley` Poems
|
Art thou pale for weariness
Of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,
|
Rating: 1.00
Votes: 1 |
|
|
|
WHEN the lamp is shatter'd,
The light in the dust lies dead;
|
Rating: 0.00
Votes: 0 |
|
|
|
I rode one evening with Count Maddalo
Upon the bank of land which breaks the flow
|
Rating: 0.00
Votes: 0 |
|
|
Related Poets
 Erik Johan Stagnelius
(3)
(1793 - 1823)
He was a Romantic poet from Sweden.
|
 Charles Baudelaire
(13)
(1821 - 1867)
Was an influential nineteenth century French poet, critic and acclaimed translator.
|
Classic Poems
|
'Who affirms that crystals are alive?'
I affirm it, let who will deny:
|
Rating: 0.00
Votes: 0 |
|
|
|
(What Grandpa told the Children)
|
Rating: 0.00
Votes: 0 |
|
|
|
Not this week nor this month dare I lie down
In languour under lime trees or smooth smile.
|
Rating: 4.00
Votes: 4 |
|
|
|
After the last red sunset glimmer,
Black on the line of a low hill rise,
|
Rating: 0.00
Votes: 0 |
|
|
|
Tufts, follicles, grubstake
biennial rosettes, a low-
|
Rating: 0.00
Votes: 0 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
David Bates
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
