Lexin

You are correct, it is Swinburne. And he does mean you to pronounce it Proser-pine, to rhyme with wine.

I love it so much, especially this bit, with really hits home with me (I can't make the lines go to the right places) but:



From too much love of living,
From hope and fear set free,
We thank with brief thanksgiving
Whatever gods may be
That no life lives for ever;
That dead men rise up never;
That even the weariest river
Winds somewhere safe to sea.

Then star nor sun shall waken,
Nor any change of light:
Nor sound of waters shaken,
Nor any sound or sight:
Nor wintry leaves nor vernal,
Nor days nor things diurnal;
Only the sleep eternal
In an eternal night.