Percy Bysshe Shelley

Aug. 4, 1792 - July 8, 1822


When a lover clasps his fairest...

by Percy Bysshe Shelley



When a lover clasps his fairest
Then be our dread sport the rarest.
Their caresses were like the chaff
In the tempest, and be our laugh
His despair -- her epitaph!


When a mother clasps her child,
Watch till dusty Death has piled
His cold ashes on the clay;
She has loved it many a day --
She remains, -- it fades away.

Published 1839, 2nd Edition.


The Lyrics and Shorter Poems of Percy Bysshe Shelley
Copyright 1907, reprinted 1913
London: J.M. Dent and Sons, Ltd.
New York: E.P. Dutton and Co.
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