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7
FOR THE PICTURE “MONNA VANNA” By D. G. ROSSETTI
to A. H. M.
Lady of the golden hair and splendid robe
Of perfectly wrought pattern gold and white—
Thou on whose large throat one large mystic globe
Of perfectly wrought pattern gold and white—
Thou on whose large throat one large mystic globe
Lies, see, of crystal—didst thou ever receive
Flesh of our flesh to breathe here? did the light
Ever indeed break from those eyes and leave
Flesh of our flesh to breathe here? did the light
Ever indeed break from those eyes and leave
Heaven lightless? or did those splendid, red, curled lips
Ever break silence? Mistress of passion and love,
Mistress of passion and life, ah! and of death that sips
Ever break silence? Mistress of passion and love,
Mistress of passion and life, ah! and of death that sips
From love's very lips our souls—see those red beads
Strung round to play with, see how they shift and move
With thy toying—even so—as the souls thy beauty leads
Strung round to play with, see how they shift and move
With thy toying—even so—as the souls thy beauty leads
Helpless about thee—leaves at thy mere caprice,
Leaves for thy fan's turn just to winnow and sift.—
O God, O God, what hast thou done with peace
Leaves for thy fan's turn just to winnow and sift.—
O God, O God, what hast thou done with peace
For one who hath gazed even once on her, felt her kiss,
Felt her bared, glorious bosom fall and lift
With its passion of kisses? Felt?—nay, or dreamed like this,
Felt her bared, glorious bosom fall and lift
With its passion of kisses? Felt?—nay, or dreamed like this,
Dreamed that he's seen her, touched her, held her, clung
Till his body and soul were one with her, passed away
Out of mind, out of sense, through a passion of nerves unstrung
Till his body and soul were one with her, passed away
Out of mind, out of sense, through a passion of nerves unstrung
8
Out into her infinite glory?—O God, it is gone
The vision, the vision! I am here once more with the day,
Face to-day's pitiless face, with my life alone!—
The vision, the vision! I am here once more with the day,
Face to-day's pitiless face, with my life alone!—
1883.
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