The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti A variorum edition: Edited, with textual notes and introductions, by R. W. Crump |
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 | The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti |  |
[Marvel of marvels, if I myself shall behold]
Marvel of marvels, if I myself shall behold
With mine own eyes my King in His city of gold;
Where the least of lambs is spotless white in the fold,
Where the least and last of saints in spotless white is stoled,
Where the dimmest head beyond a moon is aureoled.
O saints, my beloved, now mouldering to mould in the mould,
Shall I see you lift your heads, see your cerements unrolled,
See with these very eyes? who now in darkness and cold
Tremble for the midnight cry, the rapture, the tale untold,
“The Bridegroom cometh, cometh, His Bride to enfold.”
With mine own eyes my King in His city of gold;
Where the least of lambs is spotless white in the fold,
Where the least and last of saints in spotless white is stoled,
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O saints, my beloved, now mouldering to mould in the mould,
Shall I see you lift your heads, see your cerements unrolled,
See with these very eyes? who now in darkness and cold
Tremble for the midnight cry, the rapture, the tale untold,
“The Bridegroom cometh, cometh, His Bride to enfold.”
Cold it is, my beloved, since your funeral bell was tolled:
Cold it is, O my King, how cold alone on the wold.
Cold it is, O my King, how cold alone on the wold.
| The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti | |