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 |  |
15
DEATH'S CHILL BETWEEN.
Chide not; let me breathe a little,
For I shall not mourn him long.
Tho' the life-cord was so brittle
The love-cord was very strong.
I would wake a little space
Till I find a sleeping-place.
For I shall not mourn him long.
Tho' the life-cord was so brittle
The love-cord was very strong.
I would wake a little space
Till I find a sleeping-place.
You can go, I shall not weep;
You can go unto your rest;
My heart-ache is all too deep,
And too sore my throbbing breast.
Can sobs be, or angry tears,
Where are neither hopes nor fears?
You can go unto your rest;
My heart-ache is all too deep,
And too sore my throbbing breast.
Can sobs be, or angry tears,
Where are neither hopes nor fears?
Tho' with you I am alone,
And must be so everywhere,
I will make no useless moan;
None shall say: “She could not bear;”
While life lasts I will be strong,
But I shall not struggle long.
And must be so everywhere,
I will make no useless moan;
None shall say: “She could not bear;”
While life lasts I will be strong,
But I shall not struggle long.
Listen, listen! everywhere
A low voice is calling me,
And a step is on the stair,
And one comes ye do not see.
Listen, listen! evermore
A dim hand knocks at the door.
A low voice is calling me,
And a step is on the stair,
And one comes ye do not see.
Listen, listen! evermore
A dim hand knocks at the door.
Hear me: he is come again;
My own dearest is come back.
Bring him in from the cold rain;
Bring wine, and let nothing lack.
Thou and I will rest together,
Love, until the sunny weather.
My own dearest is come back.
16
Bring wine, and let nothing lack.
Thou and I will rest together,
Love, until the sunny weather.
I will shelter thee from harm,
Hide thee from all heaviness;
Come to me, and keep thee warm
By my side in quietness.
I will lull thee to thy sleep
With sweet songs; we will not weep.
Hide thee from all heaviness;
Come to me, and keep thee warm
By my side in quietness.
I will lull thee to thy sleep
With sweet songs; we will not weep.
Who hath talked of weeping? yet
There is something at my heart
Gnawing, I would fain forget,
And an aching and a smart—
Ah my Mother, 'tis in vain,
For he is not come again.
There is something at my heart
Gnawing, I would fain forget,
And an aching and a smart—
Ah my Mother, 'tis in vain,
For he is not come again.
| The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti | |