Explore "Fragment: ‘when a Lover Clasps his Fairest'" by Percy Bysshe Shelley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
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.