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...LETTER TO MAXINE SULLIVAN by HAYDEN CARRUTH NOTES FOR THE FIRST LINE OF A SPANISH POEM by JAMES GALVIN EPITAPH IN A CHURCH-YARD IN CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA by AMY LOWELL DOMESDAY BOOK: GOTTLIEB GERALD by EDGAR LEE MASTERS QUI S'EXCUSE S'ACCUSE by MARIANNE MOORE |