The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti A variorum edition: Edited, with textual notes and introductions, by R. W. Crump |
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HEART'S CHILL BETWEEN. |
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 | The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti |  |
HEART'S CHILL BETWEEN.
I did not chide him, tho' I knew
That he was false to me:
Chide the exhaling of the dew,
The ebbing of the sea,
The fading of a rosy hue,
But not inconstancy.
That he was false to me:
Chide the exhaling of the dew,
The ebbing of the sea,
The fading of a rosy hue,
But not inconstancy.
Why strive for love when love is o'er?
Why bind a restive heart?
He never knew the pain I bore
In saying: “We must part;
Let us be friends, and nothing more”:—
Oh woman's shallow art!
Why bind a restive heart?
He never knew the pain I bore
In saying: “We must part;
Let us be friends, and nothing more”:—
Oh woman's shallow art!
But it is over, it is done;
I hardly heed it now;
So many weary years have run
Since then, I think not how
Things might have been; but greet each one
With an unruffled brow.
I hardly heed it now;
So many weary years have run
Since then, I think not how
Things might have been; but greet each one
With an unruffled brow.
17
What time I am where others be
My heart seems very calm,
Stone calm; but if all go from me
There comes a vague alarm,
A shrinking in the memory
From some forgotten harm.
My heart seems very calm,
Stone calm; but if all go from me
There comes a vague alarm,
A shrinking in the memory
From some forgotten harm.
And often thro' the long long night
Waking when none are near,
I feel my heart beat fast with fright,
Yet know not what I fear.
Oh how I long to see the light
And the sweet birds to hear!
Waking when none are near,
I feel my heart beat fast with fright,
Yet know not what I fear.
Oh how I long to see the light
And the sweet birds to hear!
To have the sun upon my face,
To look up through the trees,
To walk forth in the open space,
And listen to the breeze,
And not to dream the burial place
Is clogging my weak knees.
To look up through the trees,
To walk forth in the open space,
And listen to the breeze,
And not to dream the burial place
Is clogging my weak knees.
Sometimes I can nor weep nor pray,
But am half stupified;
And then all those who see me say
Mine eyes are opened wide,
And that my wits seem gone away:—
Ah would that I had died!
But am half stupified;
And then all those who see me say
Mine eyes are opened wide,
And that my wits seem gone away:—
Ah would that I had died!
Would I could die and be at peace,
Or living could forget;
My grief nor grows nor doth decrease,
But ever is:—and yet
Methinks now that all this shall cease
Before the sun shall set.
Or living could forget;
My grief nor grows nor doth decrease,
But ever is:—and yet
Methinks now that all this shall cease
Before the sun shall set.
| The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti | |