prayer to persephone
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." 001002003004
The inspiration of the sonnets has always been something of a mystery. All we know for certain is that some were written to a dark lady. A sonnet about jealous love.