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The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti

A variorum edition: Edited, with textual notes and introductions, by R. W. Crump
Rossetti, Christina Georgina (1830-1894)

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VOLUME I
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VOLUME II
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I Sing-Song A Nursery Rhyme Book (1872)
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II Poems Added in Sing-Song A Nursery Rhyme Book (1893)
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III A Pageant and Other Poems (1881)
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IV Poems Added in Poems (1888)
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V Verses (1893)
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“OUT OF THE DEEP HAVE I CALLED UNTO THEE, O LORD.”
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CHRIST OUR ALL IN ALL.
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SOME FEASTS AND FASTS.
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GIFTS AND GRACES.
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THE WORLD. SELF-DESTRUCTION.
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DIVERS WORLDS. TIME AND ETERNITY.
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NEW JERUSALEM AND ITS CITIZENS.
  
“The Holy City, New Jerusalem.”
  
[When wickedness is broken as a tree]
  
[Jerusalem of fire]
  
“She shall be brought unto the King.”
  
[Who is this that cometh up not alone]
  
[Who sits with the King in His Throne? Not a slave but a Bride]
  
Antipas.
  
“Beautiful for situation.”
  
[Lord, by what inconceivable dim road]
  
“As cold waters to a thirsty soul, so is good news from a far country.”
  
[Cast down but not destroyed, chastened not slain]
  
[Lift up thine eyes to seek the invisible]
  
“Love is strong as Death.”
  
“Let them rejoice in their beds.”
  
[Slain in their high places: fallen on rest]
  
“What hath God wrought!”
  
“Before the Throne, and before the Lamb.”
  
“He shall go no more out.”
  
[Yea, blessed and holy is he that hath part in the First Resurrection!]
  
[The joy of Saints, like incense turned to fire]
  
[What are these lovely ones, yea, what are these?]
  
“The General Assembly and Church of the Firstborn.”
  
“Every one that is perfect shall be as his master.”
  
[“As dying, and behold we live!”]
  
“So great a cloud of Witnesses.”
  
[Our Mothers, lovely women pitiful]
  
[Safe where I cannot lie yet]
  
“Is it well with the child?”
  
[Dear Angels and dear disembodied Saints]
  
“To every seed his own body.”
  
“What good shall my life do me?”
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SONGS FOR STRANGERS AND PILGRIMS.
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VOLUME III

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[Slain in their high places: fallen on rest]

Slain in their high places: fallen on rest
Where the eternal peace lights up their faces,
In God's sacred acre breast to breast:—
Slain in their high places.
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From all tribes, all families, all races,
Gathered home together; east or west
Sending home its tale of gifts and graces.
Twine, oh twine, heaven's amaranth for their crest,
Raise their praise while home their triumph paces;
Kings by their own King of kings confessed,
Slain in their high places.
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