Fragment: 'When A Lover Clasps His Fairest'

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Title:     Fragment: 'When A Lover Clasps His Fairest'
Author: Percy Bysshe Shelley [More Titles by Shelley]

1.
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!

2.
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.

[The end]
Percy Bysshe Shelley's poem: Fragment: 'When A Lover Clasps His Fairest'

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