Sunset Wings - Proserpine

Afar away the light that brings cold cheer

Unto this wall,- one instant and no more

Admitted at my distant palace-door

Afar the flowers of Enna from this drear

Dire fruit, which, tasted once, must thrall me here

Afar those skies from this Tartarean grey

That chills me: and afar; how far away

The nights that shall be from the days that were

Behold, this crocus is a withering flame

This snowdrop, snow; this apple-blossom's part

To breed the fruit that breeds the serpent's art

Nay, for this spring-flowers, turn thy face from them

Nor stay till on the year's last lily-stem

The white cup shrivels round the golden heart

Afar from mine own self I seem, and wing

Strange ways in thought, and listen for a sign

And still some heart unto some soul doth pine，

(Whose sounds mine inner sense is fain to bring)

Woe's me for thee, unhappy Proserpine，

(Continually together, murmuring)

Woe's me for thee, unhappy Proserpine

(Woe's me for thee, unhappy Proserpine)

Woe's me for thee，unhappy Proserpine

Woe's me for thee