BE to her, Persephone, All the things I might not be; Take her head upon your knee. She that was so proud and wild, Flippant, arrogant and free, She that had no need of me, Is a little lonely child Lost in Hell, -- Persephone, Take her head upon your knee; Say to her, "My dear, my dear, It is not so dreadful here." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TOM BOWLING ['S EPITAPH] by CHARLES DIBDIN THE KANSAS EMIGRANTS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE RUINS OF CORINTH by ANTIPATER OF SIDON THE ORPHAN'S COMPLAINT by ANNABEL HANNA BANES TO A FRIEND DYING by ROBERT BRIDGES (1858-1941) THE BATTLE OF CHARLESTOWN by HENRY HOWARD BROWNELL |