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 |  |
106
The Dying Man to his Betrothed.
One word—'tis all I ask of thee;
One word—and that is little now
That I have learned thy wrong of me;
And thou too art unfaithful—thou!—
O thou sweet poison, sweetest death,
O honey between serpent's teeth,
Breathe on me with thy scorching breath!
One word—and that is little now
That I have learned thy wrong of me;
And thou too art unfaithful—thou!—
O thou sweet poison, sweetest death,
O honey between serpent's teeth,
Breathe on me with thy scorching breath!
The last poor hope is fleeting now,
And with it life is ebbing fast;
I gaze upon thy cold white brow,
And loathe and love thee to the last.
And still thou keepest silence—still
Thou look'st on me—for good or ill
Speak out, that I may know thy will.
And with it life is ebbing fast;
I gaze upon thy cold white brow,
And loathe and love thee to the last.
And still thou keepest silence—still
Thou look'st on me—for good or ill
Speak out, that I may know thy will.
Thou weepest, woman, and art pale!
Weep not, for thou shalt soon be free;
My life is ending like a tale
That was—but never more shall be.
O blessed moments, ye fleet fast,
And soon the latest shall be past,
And she will be content at last.
Weep not, for thou shalt soon be free;
My life is ending like a tale
That was—but never more shall be.
O blessed moments, ye fleet fast,
And soon the latest shall be past,
And she will be content at last.
Nay, tremble not—I have not cursed
Thy house or mine, or thee or me;
The moment that I saw thee first,
The moment that I first loved thee,
Curse them! alas!—I can but bless,
In this mine hour of heaviness;—
Nay, sob not so in thy distress!
Thy house or mine, or thee or me;
The moment that I saw thee first,
The moment that I first loved thee,
Curse them! alas!—I can but bless,
In this mine hour of heaviness;—
Nay, sob not so in thy distress!
I have been harsh, thou sayst of me;—
God knows my heart was never so;
It never could be so to thee—
And now it is too late—I know
Thy grief—forgive me, love! 'tis o'er,
For I shall never trouble more
Thy life that was so calm before.
God knows my heart was never so;
It never could be so to thee—
And now it is too late—I know
Thy grief—forgive me, love! 'tis o'er,
For I shall never trouble more
Thy life that was so calm before.
107
I pardon thee—mayst thou be blest!
Say, wilt thou sometimes think of me?
Oh may I, from my happy rest,
Still look with love on thine and thee,
And may I pray for thee alway,
And for thy Love still may I pray,
Waiting the everlasting Day.
Say, wilt thou sometimes think of me?
Oh may I, from my happy rest,
Still look with love on thine and thee,
And may I pray for thee alway,
And for thy Love still may I pray,
Waiting the everlasting Day.
Stoop over me—ah! this is death!
I scarce can see thee at my side;
Stoop lower—let me feel thy breath,
O thou, mine own, my promised bride!
Pardon me, love—I pardon thee,
And may our pardon sealèd be
Throughout the long eternity.
I scarce can see thee at my side;
Stoop lower—let me feel thy breath,
O thou, mine own, my promised bride!
Pardon me, love—I pardon thee,
And may our pardon sealèd be
Throughout the long eternity.
The pains of death my senses cover:—
Oh! for His Sake Who died for men,
Be thou more true to this thy lover
Than thou hast been to me—Amen!
And if he chide thee wrongfully,
One little moment think on me,
And thou wilt bear it patiently.
Oh! for His Sake Who died for men,
Be thou more true to this thy lover
Than thou hast been to me—Amen!
And if he chide thee wrongfully,
One little moment think on me,
And thou wilt bear it patiently.
And now, O God, I turn to Thee:
Thou Only, Father, canst not fail;
Lord, Thou hast tried and broken me,
And yet Thy Mercy shall prevail.
Saviour, through Thee I am forgiven—
Do Thou receive my soul, blood-shriven,
O Christ, Who art the Gate of Heaven!
Thou Only, Father, canst not fail;
Lord, Thou hast tried and broken me,
And yet Thy Mercy shall prevail.
Saviour, through Thee I am forgiven—
Do Thou receive my soul, blood-shriven,
O Christ, Who art the Gate of Heaven!
| The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti | |