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University of Virginia Library

The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti

A variorum edition: Edited, with textual notes and introductions, by R. W. Crump

Rossetti, Christina Georgina (1830-1894)

I.

II.

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III.

I.

I Separately Published Poems

II.

II Privately Printed Poems

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III.

III Unpublished Poems

Corydon's Lament and Resolution.

The Faithless Shepherdess.

Ariadne to Theseus.

A Hymn for Christmas Day.

Love and Death.

Easter Morning.

The Last Words of St. Telemachus.

Lord Thomas and fair Margaret.

Lines to my Grandfather.

Praise of Love.

“I have fought a good fight.”

Wishes: Sonnet.

Night and Death.

“Young men aye were fickle found Since summer trees were leafy.”

The Lotus-Eaters: Ulysses to Penelope.

Sonnet from the Psalms.

The World's Harmonies.

Lines given with a Penwiper.

The last Answer.

One of the Dead.

“The whole head is sick, and the whole heart faint.”

“I do set My bow in the cloud.”

“O Death where is thy Sting?”

Lady Montrevor.

Floral Teaching.

“Death is swallowed up in Victory.”

A Hopeless Case.

Ellen Middleton.

St. Andrew's Church.

“Sleep, sleep, happy child; “All creation slept and smiled.” Blake.

What Sappho would have said had her leap cured instead of killing her.

To Lalla, reading my verses topsy-turvy.

The last Complaint.

Have you forgotten?

A Christmas Carol, (on the stroke of Midnight.)

Looking forward.

A Year Afterwards.

Two thoughts of Death.

“A fair World tho' a fallen.”—

“Eye hath not seen.”

St. Elizabeth of Hungary.

“The Summer is ended.”

“I look for the Lord.”

From the Antique.

“The heart knoweth its own bitterness.”

“To what purpose is this waste?”

“Let them rejoice in their beds.”

Holy Innocents.

“There remaineth therefore a rest for the people of God.”

[Thou sleepest where the lilies fade]

[I wish I were a little bird]

[All night I dream you love me well]

(For Rosaline's Album.)

“Who have a form of godliness.”

A Study. (A Soul.)

“There remaineth therefore a rest.”

“Ye have forgotten the exhortation.”

From the Antique.

Long looked for.

“I have a message unto thee.”

An Afterthought.

“Zion said.”

River Thames (?).

A chilly night.

“Let patience have her perfect work.”

A bed of Forget-me-nots.

The Chiefest among ten thousand.

“Look on this picture and on this.”

“Now they desire.”

A Christmas Carol, for my Godchildren.

“Not yours but you.”

In an Artist's Studio.

“The heart knoweth its own bitterness.”

“Reflection”.

A Coast-Nightmare.

‘For one Sake.’

My old Friends.

“Yet a little while”.

“Only believe.”

“Rivals.” A Shadow of Saint Dorothea.

“Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to another.”

“What good shall my life do me?”

The Massacre of Perugia.

[I have done with hope]

Promises like Piecrust.

By the waters of Babylon.

Our widowed Queen.

“Out of the deep.”

For a Mercy received.

“None with Him.”

If I had Words.

In a certain place.

“Cannot sweeten.”

[Yes, I too could face death and never shrink]

[Would that I were a turnip white]

[I fancy the good fairies dressed in white]

[Some ladies dress in muslin full and white]

By way of Remembrance.

Valentines from C.G.R.

[Ah welladay and wherefore am I here?]

[Along the highroad the way is too long]

[And is this August weather? nay not so]

[From early dawn until the flush of noon]

[I seek among the living & I seek]

[O glorious sea that in each climbing wave]

[Oh thou who tell'st me that all hope is over]

[Surely there is an aching void within]

[The spring is come again not as at first]

[Who shall my wandering thoughts steady & fix]

[You who look on passed ages as a glass]

The Succession of Kings.

[The two Rossettis (brothers they)]

Imitated from the Arpa Evangelica: Page 121.

[Mr. and Mrs. Scott, and I]

[Gone to his rest]

[I said “All's over”—& I made my]

[I said good bye in hope]

[Had Fortune parted us]

Counterblast on Penny Trumpet.

[A roundel seems to fit a round of days]

[Heaven overarches earth and sea]

[Sleeping at last, the trouble & tumult over]

4th May morning.

[‘Come cheer up, my lads, 'tis to glory we steer!’]

[How many authors are my first!]

[Me you often meet]

[So I began my walk of life; no stop]

[So I grew half delirious and quite sick]

[On the note you do not send me]

FROM METASTASIO

[I toiled on, but thou]

[My old admiration before I was twenty,—]

TO MARY ROSSETTI

TO MY FIOR-DI-LISA

[Hail, noble face of noble friend!—]

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246

“I gave a sweet smell.”

Saints are like roses when they flush rarest,
Saints are like lilies when they bloom fairest,
Saints are like violets sweetest of their kind:
Bear in mind
This today. Then tomorrow:
All like roses rarer than the rarest,
All like lilies fairer than the fairest,
All like violets sweeter than we know.
Be it so.
Tomorrow blots out sorrow.