Public Domain Poetry And Stories - Fragment Of The Elegy On The Death Of Adonis. by Percy Bysshe Shelley
Public domain poetry and public domain stories from the literary greats of yesteryear.
Custom Search
Main Menu

Home

Latest Poetry

Latest Authors

Authors Surname

Authors First Name

Poetry Title

Poetry First Lines

Latest Stories

Stories Title

Top Authors

Top Poetry


Top Stories Etc.

Search

Contact Us

Useless Information!!

Store



Top Sites, Click here to vote for our site

Sponsored Links

Read, Rate, Comment on or Submit your poetry

Fragment Of The Elegy On The Death Of Adonis.

    By Percy Bysshe Shelley



    FROM THE GREEK OF BION.


    I mourn Adonis dead - loveliest Adonis -
    Dead, dead Adonis - and the Loves lament.
    Sleep no more, Venus, wrapped in purple woof -
    Wake violet-stoled queen, and weave the crown
    Of Death, - 'tis Misery calls, - for he is dead.

    The lovely one lies wounded in the mountains,
    His white thigh struck with the white tooth; he scarce
    Yet breathes; and Venus hangs in agony there.
    The dark blood wanders o'er his snowy limbs,
    His eyes beneath their lids are lustreless,
    The rose has fled from his wan lips, and there
    That kiss is dead, which Venus gathers yet.

    A deep, deep wound Adonis...
    A deeper Venus bears upon her heart.
    See, his beloved dogs are gathering round -
    The Oread nymphs are weeping - Aphrodite
    With hair unbound is wandering through the woods,
    'Wildered, ungirt, unsandalled - the thorns pierce
    Her hastening feet and drink her sacred blood.
    Bitterly screaming out, she is driven on
    Through the long vales; and her Assyrian boy,
    Her love, her husband, calls - the purple blood
    From his struck thigh stains her white navel now,
    Her bosom, and her neck before like snow.

    Alas for Cytherea - the Loves mourn -
    The lovely, the beloved is gone! - and now
    Her sacred beauty vanishes away.
    For Venus whilst Adonis lived was fair -
    Alas! her loveliness is dead with him.
    The oaks and mountains cry, Ai! ai! Adonis!
    The springs their waters change to tears and weep -
    The flowers are withered up with grief...

    Ai! ai! ... Adonis is dead
    Echo resounds ... Adonis dead.
    Who will weep not thy dreadful woe. O Venus?
    Soon as she saw and knew the mortal wound
    Of her Adonis - saw the life-blood flow
    From his fair thigh, now wasting, - wailing loud
    She clasped him, and cried ... 'Stay, Adonis!
    Stay, dearest one,...
    and mix my lips with thine -
    Wake yet a while, Adonis - oh, but once,
    That I may kiss thee now for the last time -
    But for as long as one short kiss may live -
    Oh, let thy breath flow from thy dying soul
    Even to my mouth and heart, that I may suck
    That...'



Extra Info:
_23 his Rossetti, Dowden, Woodberry; her Boscombe manuscript, Forman.



Printable Page

Add Your Thoughts on this poem.



This page viewed 389 times.
Sponsored Links


Your Shops - Affordable Ecommerce stores and cheaper goods for customers - No listing fees!



Our Sites