The bridal couch of sad Proserpina
In grim Hephæstus’ realm mine eyes beheld;
The ravished bride bewailed her home afar—
Her temples bound with Stygian asphodel.
I saw the vast Plutonian gardens, where
That cursed pomegranate shed its deadly bloom,
Whose fatal fruitage, banned from upper air
Sad Ceres’ daughter till the seventh moon.
I saw the Pleiads, in their skyey tent,
Bemoan their starry sister, dead and cold;