or Proserpine (3 syl.). One day, as she was amusing herself in the meadows of Sicily, Pluto seized her and carried her off in his chariot to the infernal regions for his bride. In her terror she dropped some of the lilies she had been gathering, and they turned to daffodils.
O Proserpina, For the flowers now, that frighted thou let at fall From Dis's waggon! daffodils, That come before the swallow dares, and take The winds of March with beauty.