. Lyrics from a library . 43. Beyond where Scylla and Charybdis roared,In the old days of hale Odyssean worth,Where pale Proserpine of joy had dearth In the fair fields of Enna the deplored, iWhere asphodels still show their golden hoard,-The flowerful largess of Sicilian earth,—There, it is said, the sonnet had its birth, A limpid song from melodys chalice poured. And they, the bards who shaped the stately form,Their names are but blown waifs upon thewind;Their bones with yellowed dust long sincewere one;But still the sonnet, living, vital, warm,In many a bosom lovingly enshrined,Sings on and

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. Lyrics from a library . 43. Beyond where Scylla and Charybdis roared,In the old days of hale Odyssean worth,Where pale Proserpine of joy had dearth In the fair fields of Enna the deplored, iWhere asphodels still show their golden hoard,-The flowerful largess of Sicilian earth,—There, it is said, the sonnet had its birth, A limpid song from melodys chalice poured. And they, the bards who shaped the stately form,Their names are but blown waifs upon thewind;Their bones with yellowed dust long sincewere one;But still the sonnet, living, vital, warm,In many a bosom lovingly enshrined,Sings on and on in choral antiphon.

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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookidlyricsfromli, bookyear1913