Page:Poems and ballads (IA poemsballads00swinrich).pdf/260

 Forced the bright body of Persephone: Out of pure grass, where she lying down, red flowers Made their sharp little shadows on her sides, Pale heat, pale colour on pale maiden flesh— And chill water slid over her reddening feet, Killing the throbs in their soft blood; and birds, Perched next her elbow and pecking at her hair, Stretched their necks more to see her than even to sing. A sharp thing is it I have need to say; For Hades holding both white wrists of hers Unloosed the girdle and with knot by knot Bound her between his wheels upon the seat, Bound her pure body, holiest yet and dear To me and God as always, clothed about With blossoms loosened as her knees went down, Let fall as she let go of this and this By tens and twenties, tumbled to her feet, White waifs or purple of the pasturage. Therefore with only going up and down My feet were wasted, and the gracious air, To me discomfortable and dun, became As weak smoke blowing in the under world. And finding in the process of ill days What part had Zeus herein, and how as mate He coped with Hades, yokefellow in sin, I set my lips against the meat of gods And drank not neither ate or slept in heaven. Nor in the golden greeting of their mouths