Persephone

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Title:     Persephone
Author: Helen Hay Whitney [More Titles by Whitney]

Persephone, Persephone--her sweet face wanders up to me,
Through this bewildering maze of spring.
At length she daunts the tyrannous year,
Her little laugh usurps the tear,
Her little song she dares to fling
Against the black stars, merrily.

Persephone, Persephone--her hands lean through the spring to me.
Sweet, could I show you in what wise
Your song has blossomed--how the air
Is mad with gold because your hair,
Tossed golden 'neath your sea-blue eyes,
And earth goes laughing with your glee?

Persephone, Persephone, this hour sends out your heart to me.
Child of the Dark, with soul sun-bright,
Ah, give me largesse, give me May,
So shall I charm the saddest day,
And life--one amber dawn's delight--
Shall bear your song eternally.

[The end]
Helen Hay Whitney's poem: Persephone

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