The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti A variorum edition: Edited, with textual notes and introductions, by R. W. Crump |
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Privately Printed Poems
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 | The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti |  |
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II
Privately Printed Poems
63
THE DEAD CITY.
Once I rambled in a wood
With a careless hardihood,
Heeding not the tangled way;
Labyrinths around me lay,
But for them I never stood.
With a careless hardihood,
Heeding not the tangled way;
Labyrinths around me lay,
But for them I never stood.
On, still on, I wandered on,
And the sun above me shone;
And the birds around me winging
With their everlasting singing
Made me feel not quite alone.
And the sun above me shone;
And the birds around me winging
With their everlasting singing
Made me feel not quite alone.
In the branches of the trees,
Murmured like the hum of bees
The low sound of happy breezes,
Whose sweet voice that never ceases
Lulls the heart to perfect ease.
Murmured like the hum of bees
The low sound of happy breezes,
Whose sweet voice that never ceases
Lulls the heart to perfect ease.
Streamlets bubbled all around
On the green and fertile ground,
Thro' the rushes and the grass,
Like a sheet of liquid glass,
With a soft and trickling sound.
On the green and fertile ground,
Thro' the rushes and the grass,
Like a sheet of liquid glass,
With a soft and trickling sound.
And I went, I went on faster,
Contemplating no disaster;
And I plucked ripe blackberries,
But the birds with envious eyes
Came and stole them from their master:
Contemplating no disaster;
And I plucked ripe blackberries,
But the birds with envious eyes
Came and stole them from their master:
For the birds here were all tame;
Some with bodies like a flame,
Some that glanced the branches thro'
Pure and colourless as dew;
Fearlessly to me they came.
Some with bodies like a flame,
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Pure and colourless as dew;
Fearlessly to me they came.
Before me no mortal stood
In the mazes of that wood;
Before me the birds had never
Seen a man, but dwelt for ever
In a happy solitude;
In the mazes of that wood;
Before me the birds had never
Seen a man, but dwelt for ever
In a happy solitude;
Happy solitude, and blest
With beatitude of rest;
Where the woods are ever vernal,
And the life and joy eternal,
Without Death's or Sorrow's test.
With beatitude of rest;
Where the woods are ever vernal,
And the life and joy eternal,
Without Death's or Sorrow's test.
Oh most blessed solitude!
Oh most full beatitude!
Where are quiet without strife,
And imperishable life,
Nothing marred, and all things good.
Oh most full beatitude!
Where are quiet without strife,
And imperishable life,
Nothing marred, and all things good.
And the bright sun, life begetting,
Never rising, never setting,
Shining warmly overhead,
Nor too pallid, nor too red,
Lulled me to a sweet forgetting,
Never rising, never setting,
Shining warmly overhead,
Nor too pallid, nor too red,
Lulled me to a sweet forgetting,
Sweet forgetting of the time:
And I listened for no chime
Which might warn me to begone;
But I wandered on, still on,
'Neath the boughs of oak and lime.
And I listened for no chime
Which might warn me to begone;
But I wandered on, still on,
'Neath the boughs of oak and lime.
Know I not how long I strayed
In the pleasant leafy shade;
But the trees had gradually
Grown more rare, the air more free,
The sun hotter overhead.
In the pleasant leafy shade;
But the trees had gradually
Grown more rare, the air more free,
The sun hotter overhead.
Soon the birds no more were seen
Glancing thro' the living green;
And a blight had passed upon
All the trees; and the pale sun
Shone with a strange lurid sheen.
Glancing thro' the living green;
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All the trees; and the pale sun
Shone with a strange lurid sheen.
Then a darkness spread around:
I saw nought, I heard no sound;
Solid darkness overhead,
With a trembling cautious tread
Passed I o'er the unseen ground.
I saw nought, I heard no sound;
Solid darkness overhead,
With a trembling cautious tread
Passed I o'er the unseen ground.
But at length a pallid light
Broke upon my searching sight;
A pale solitary ray,
Like a star at dawn of day
Ere the sun is hot and bright.
Broke upon my searching sight;
A pale solitary ray,
Like a star at dawn of day
Ere the sun is hot and bright.
Towards its faintly glimmering beam
I went on as in a dream;
A strange dream of hope and fear!
And I saw as I drew near
'Twas in truth no planet's gleam;
I went on as in a dream;
A strange dream of hope and fear!
And I saw as I drew near
'Twas in truth no planet's gleam;
But a lamp above a gate
Shone in solitary state
O'er a desert drear and cold,
O'er a heap of ruins old,
O'er a scene most desolate.
Shone in solitary state
O'er a desert drear and cold,
O'er a heap of ruins old,
O'er a scene most desolate.
By that gate I entered lone
A fair city of white stone;
And a lovely light to see
Dawned, and spread most gradually
Till the air grew warm and shone.
A fair city of white stone;
And a lovely light to see
Dawned, and spread most gradually
Till the air grew warm and shone.
Thro' the splendid streets I strayed
In that radiance without shade,
Yet I heard no human sound;
All was still and silent round
As a city of the dead.
In that radiance without shade,
Yet I heard no human sound;
All was still and silent round
As a city of the dead.
All the doors were open wide;
Lattices on every side
In the wind swung to and fro;
Wind that whispered very low:
Go and see the end of pride.
Lattices on every side
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Wind that whispered very low:
Go and see the end of pride.
With a fixed determination
Entered I each habitation,
But they all were tenantless;
All was utter loneliness,
All was deathless desolation.
Entered I each habitation,
But they all were tenantless;
All was utter loneliness,
All was deathless desolation.
In the noiseless market-place
Was no care-worn busy face;
There were none to buy or sell,
None to listen or to tell,
In this silent emptiness.
Was no care-worn busy face;
There were none to buy or sell,
None to listen or to tell,
In this silent emptiness.
Thro' the city on I went
Full of awe and wonderment;
Still the light around me shone,
And I wandered on, still on,
In my great astonishment,
Full of awe and wonderment;
Still the light around me shone,
And I wandered on, still on,
In my great astonishment,
Till at length I reached a place
Where amid an ample space
Rose a palace for a king;
Golden was the turreting,
And of solid gold the base.
Where amid an ample space
Rose a palace for a king;
Golden was the turreting,
And of solid gold the base.
The great porch was ivory,
And the steps were ebony;
Diamond and chrysoprase
Set the pillars in a blaze,
Capitalled with jewelry.
And the steps were ebony;
Diamond and chrysoprase
Set the pillars in a blaze,
Capitalled with jewelry.
None was there to bar my way—
And the breezes seemed to say:
Touch not these, but pass them by,
Pressing onwards: therefore I
Entered in and made no stay.
And the breezes seemed to say:
Touch not these, but pass them by,
Pressing onwards: therefore I
Entered in and made no stay.
All around was desolate:
I went on; a silent state
Reigned in each deserted room,
And I hastened thro' the gloom
Till I reached an outer gate.
I went on; a silent state
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And I hastened thro' the gloom
Till I reached an outer gate.
Soon a shady avenue
Blossom-perfumed, met my view.
Here and there the sun-beams fell
On pure founts, whose sudden swell
Up from marble basins flew.
Blossom-perfumed, met my view.
Here and there the sun-beams fell
On pure founts, whose sudden swell
Up from marble basins flew.
Every tree was fresh and green;
Not a withered leaf was seen
Thro' the veil of flowers and fruit;
Strong and sapful were the root,
The top boughs, and all between.
Not a withered leaf was seen
Thro' the veil of flowers and fruit;
Strong and sapful were the root,
The top boughs, and all between.
Vines were climbing everywhere
Full of purple grapes and fair:
And far off I saw the corn
With its heavy head down borne,
By the odour-laden air.
Full of purple grapes and fair:
And far off I saw the corn
With its heavy head down borne,
By the odour-laden air.
Who shall strip the bending vine?
Who shall tread the press for wine?
Who shall bring the harvest in
When the pallid ears begin
In the sun to glow and shine?
Who shall tread the press for wine?
Who shall bring the harvest in
When the pallid ears begin
In the sun to glow and shine?
On I went, alone, alone,
Till I saw a tent that shone
With each bright and lustrous hue;
It was trimmed with jewels too,
And with flowers; not one was gone.
Till I saw a tent that shone
With each bright and lustrous hue;
It was trimmed with jewels too,
And with flowers; not one was gone.
Then the breezes whispered me:
Enter in, and look, and see
How for luxury and pride
A great multitude have died:—
And I entered tremblingly.
Enter in, and look, and see
How for luxury and pride
A great multitude have died:—
And I entered tremblingly.
Lo, a splendid banquet laid
In the cool and pleasant shade.
Mighty tables, every thing
Of sweet Nature's furnishing
That was rich and rare, displayed;
In the cool and pleasant shade.
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Of sweet Nature's furnishing
That was rich and rare, displayed;
And each strange and luscious cate
Practised Art makes delicate;
With a thousand fair devices
Full of odours and of spices;
And a warm voluptuous state.
Practised Art makes delicate;
With a thousand fair devices
Full of odours and of spices;
And a warm voluptuous state.
All the vessels were of gold
Set with gems of worth untold.
In the midst a fountain rose
Of pure milk, whose rippling flows
In a silver basin rolled.
Set with gems of worth untold.
In the midst a fountain rose
Of pure milk, whose rippling flows
In a silver basin rolled.
In green emerald baskets were
Sun-red apples, streaked, and fair;
Here the nectarine and peach
And ripe plum lay, and on each
The bloom rested every where.
Sun-red apples, streaked, and fair;
Here the nectarine and peach
And ripe plum lay, and on each
The bloom rested every where.
Grapes were hanging overhead,
Purple, pale, and ruby-red;
And in panniers all around
Yellow melons shone, fresh found,
With the dew upon them spread.
Purple, pale, and ruby-red;
And in panniers all around
Yellow melons shone, fresh found,
With the dew upon them spread.
And the apricot and pear
And the pulpy fig were there;
Cherries and dark mulberries,
Bunchy currants, strawberries,
And the lemon wan and fair.
And the pulpy fig were there;
Cherries and dark mulberries,
Bunchy currants, strawberries,
And the lemon wan and fair.
And unnumbered others too,
Fruits of every size and hue,
Juicy in their ripe perfection,
Cool beneath the cool reflection
Of the curtains' skyey blue.
Fruits of every size and hue,
Juicy in their ripe perfection,
Cool beneath the cool reflection
Of the curtains' skyey blue.
All the floor was strewn with flowers
Fresh from sunshine and from showers,
Roses, lilies, jessamine;
And the ivy ran between
Like a thought in happy hours.
Fresh from sunshine and from showers,
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And the ivy ran between
Like a thought in happy hours.
And this feast too lacked no guest
With its warm delicious rest;
With its couches softly sinking,
And its glow, not made for thinking,
But for careless joy at best.
With its warm delicious rest;
With its couches softly sinking,
And its glow, not made for thinking,
But for careless joy at best.
Many banquetters were there,
Wrinkled age, the young, the fair;
In the splendid revelry
Flushing cheek and kindling eye
Told of gladness without care.
Wrinkled age, the young, the fair;
In the splendid revelry
Flushing cheek and kindling eye
Told of gladness without care.
Yet no laughter rang around,
Yet they uttered forth no sound;
With the smile upon his face
Each sat moveless in his place,
Silently, as if spell-bound.
Yet they uttered forth no sound;
With the smile upon his face
Each sat moveless in his place,
Silently, as if spell-bound.
The low whispering voice was gone,
And I felt awed and alone.
In my great astonishment
To the feasters up I went—
Lo, they all were turned to stone.
And I felt awed and alone.
In my great astonishment
To the feasters up I went—
Lo, they all were turned to stone.
Yea they all were statue-cold,
Men and women, young and old;
With the life-like look and smile
And the flush; and all the while
The hard fingers kept their hold.
Men and women, young and old;
With the life-like look and smile
And the flush; and all the while
The hard fingers kept their hold.
Here a little child was sitting
With a merry glance, befitting
Happy age and heedless heart;
There a young man sat apart
With a forward look unweeting.
With a merry glance, befitting
Happy age and heedless heart;
There a young man sat apart
With a forward look unweeting.
Nigh them was a maiden fair;
And the ringlets of her hair
Round her slender fingers twined;
And she blushed as she reclined,
Knowing that her love was there.
And the ringlets of her hair
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And she blushed as she reclined,
Knowing that her love was there.
Here a dead man sat to sup,
In his hand a drinking cup;
Wine cup of the heavy gold,
Human hand stony and cold,
And no life-breath struggling up.
In his hand a drinking cup;
Wine cup of the heavy gold,
Human hand stony and cold,
And no life-breath struggling up.
There a mother lay, and smiled
Down upon her infant child;
Happy child and happy mother
Laughing back to one another
With a gladness undefiled.
Down upon her infant child;
Happy child and happy mother
Laughing back to one another
With a gladness undefiled.
Here an old man slept, worn out
With the revelry and rout;
Here a strong man sat and gazed
On a girl, whose eyes upraised
No more wandered round about.
With the revelry and rout;
Here a strong man sat and gazed
On a girl, whose eyes upraised
No more wandered round about.
And none broke the stillness, none;
I was the sole living one.
And methought that silently
Many seemed to look on me
With strange stedfast eyes that shone.
I was the sole living one.
And methought that silently
Many seemed to look on me
With strange stedfast eyes that shone.
Full of fear I would have fled;
Full of fear I bent my head,
Shutting out each stony guest:—
When I looked again the feast
And the tent had vanished.
Full of fear I bent my head,
Shutting out each stony guest:—
When I looked again the feast
And the tent had vanished.
Yes, once more I stood alone
Where the happy sunlight shone
And a gentle wind was sighing,
And the little birds were flying,
And the dreariness was gone.
Where the happy sunlight shone
And a gentle wind was sighing,
And the little birds were flying,
And the dreariness was gone.
All these things that I have said
Awed me, and made me afraid.
What was I that I should see
So much hidden mystery?
And I straightway knelt and prayed.
Awed me, and made me afraid.
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So much hidden mystery?
And I straightway knelt and prayed.
The Water Spirit's Song.
In the silent hour of even,
When the stars are in the heaven,
When in the azure cloudless sky
The moon beams forth all lustrously,
When over hill and over vale
Is wafted the sweet-scented gale,
When murmurs thro' the forest trees
The cool, refreshing, evening breeze,
When the nightingale's wild melody
Is waking herb and flower and tree,
From their perfumed and soft repose,
To list the praises of the rose;
When the ocean sleeps deceitfully,
When the waves are resting quietly,
I spread my bright wings, and fly far away
To my beautiful sister's mansion gay:
I leave behind me rock and mountain,
I leave behind me rill and fountain,
And I dive far down in the murmuring sea,
Where my fair sister welcomes me joyously;
For she's Queen of Ocean for ever and ever,
And I of each fountain and still lake and river.
When the stars are in the heaven,
When in the azure cloudless sky
The moon beams forth all lustrously,
When over hill and over vale
Is wafted the sweet-scented gale,
When murmurs thro' the forest trees
The cool, refreshing, evening breeze,
When the nightingale's wild melody
Is waking herb and flower and tree,
From their perfumed and soft repose,
To list the praises of the rose;
When the ocean sleeps deceitfully,
When the waves are resting quietly,
I spread my bright wings, and fly far away
To my beautiful sister's mansion gay:
I leave behind me rock and mountain,
I leave behind me rill and fountain,
And I dive far down in the murmuring sea,
Where my fair sister welcomes me joyously;
For she's Queen of Ocean for ever and ever,
And I of each fountain and still lake and river.
She dwells in a palace of coral
Of diamond and pearl;
And in each jewelled chamber the fishes
Their scaly length unfurl;
And the sun can dart no light
On the depths beneath the sea;
But the ruby there shines bright
And sparkles brilliantly;
No mortal e'er trod on the surface
Of the adamantine floor;
No human being e'er passed the bound
Of the pearl-encrusted door.
But the mermaidens sing plaintively
Beneath the deep blue ocean,
And to their song the green fishes dance
With undulating motion.
And the cold bright moon looks down on us
With her fixed unchanging smile;
'Neath her chilly glance the mermaids dance
Upon each coral isle;
And her beams she laves in the briny waves
With loving constancy;
And she never ceases with light caresses
To soothe the swelling sea;
All night on us she softly shines
With a fond and tender gaze,
Till the sun blushes red from his ocean bed
And sends forth his warming rays.
And then she flies to other skies
Till the sun has run his race,
And again the day to the night's soft sway
To the moon and stars gives place.
Of diamond and pearl;
And in each jewelled chamber the fishes
Their scaly length unfurl;
And the sun can dart no light
On the depths beneath the sea;
But the ruby there shines bright
And sparkles brilliantly;
72
Of the adamantine floor;
No human being e'er passed the bound
Of the pearl-encrusted door.
But the mermaidens sing plaintively
Beneath the deep blue ocean,
And to their song the green fishes dance
With undulating motion.
And the cold bright moon looks down on us
With her fixed unchanging smile;
'Neath her chilly glance the mermaids dance
Upon each coral isle;
And her beams she laves in the briny waves
With loving constancy;
And she never ceases with light caresses
To soothe the swelling sea;
All night on us she softly shines
With a fond and tender gaze,
Till the sun blushes red from his ocean bed
And sends forth his warming rays.
And then she flies to other skies
Till the sun has run his race,
And again the day to the night's soft sway
To the moon and stars gives place.
And when the bright sun doth arise,
To tinge with gold the vaulted skies,
When the nightingale no longer sings,
And the blush rose forth its odour flings,
When the breath of morn is rustling through
The trees, and kissing away the dew,
When the sea casts up its foam and spray,
And greets the fresh gale that speeds away,
I fly back to my home in the rushing cascade—
By the silvery streamlet my dark hair I braid,
And then when the sun once more sinks in the ocean,
I glide with a floating and passionless motion,
To my sister 'neath the boundless sea
And with her till morn dwell joyously.
To tinge with gold the vaulted skies,
When the nightingale no longer sings,
And the blush rose forth its odour flings,
When the breath of morn is rustling through
The trees, and kissing away the dew,
When the sea casts up its foam and spray,
And greets the fresh gale that speeds away,
I fly back to my home in the rushing cascade—
By the silvery streamlet my dark hair I braid,
And then when the sun once more sinks in the ocean,
I glide with a floating and passionless motion,
To my sister 'neath the boundless sea
And with her till morn dwell joyously.
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The Song of the Star.
I am a star dwelling on highIn the azure of the vaulted sky.
I shine on the land and I shine on the sea,
And the little breezes talk to me.
The waves rise towards me every one
And forget the brightness of the sun:
The growing grass springs up towards me
And forgets the day's fertility.
My face is light, and my beam is life,
And my passionless being hath no strife.
In me no love is turned to hate,
No fulness is made desolate;
Here is no hope, no fear, no grief,
Here is no pain and no relief;
Nor birth nor death hath part in me,
But a profound tranquillity.
The blossoms that bloomed yesterday
Unaltered shall bloom on today,
And on the morrow shall not fade.
Within the everlasting shade
The fountain gushing up for ever
Flows on to the eternal river,
That, running by a reedy shore,
Bubbles, bubbles evermore.
The happy birds sing in the trees
To the music of the southern breeze;
And they fear no lack of food,
Chirping in the underwood;
For ripe seeds and berried bushes
Serve the finches and the thrushes,
And all feathered fowls that dwell
In that shade majestical.
Beyond all clouds and all mistiness
I float in the strength of my loveliness;
And I move round the sun with a measured motion
In the blue expanse of the skyey ocean;
And I hear the song of the Angel throng
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Without a pausing, without a hushing,
Like an everlasting fountain's gushing
That of its own will bubbles up
From a white untainted cup.
Countless planets float round me
Differing all in majesty;
Smaller some, and some more great,
Amethystine, roseate,
Golden, silvery, glowing blue,
Hueless, and of every hue.
Each and all, both great and small,
With a cadence musical,
Shoot out rays of glowing praise,
Never ending, but always
Hymning the Creator's might
Who hath filled them full of light.
Pealing through eternity,
Filling out immensity,
Sun and moon and stars together,
In heights where is no cloudy weather;
Where is nor storm, nor mist, nor rain;
Where night goeth not to come again.
On, and on, and on for ever,
Never ceasing, sinking never,
Voiceless adorations rise
To the Heaven above the skies.
We all chant with a holy harmony,
No discord marreth our melody;
Here are no strifes nor envyings,
But each with love joyously sings,
For ever and ever floating free
In the azure light of infinity.
Summer.
Hark to the song of greeting! the tall trees
Murmur their welcome in the southern breeze.
Amid the thickest foliage many a bird
Sits singing, their shrill matins scarcely heard
One by one, but all together
Welcoming the sunny weather.
In every bower hums a bee
Fluttering melodiously.
Murmurs joy in every brook,
Rippling with a pleasant look.
What greet they with their guileless bliss?
What welcome with a song like this?
Murmur their welcome in the southern breeze.
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Sits singing, their shrill matins scarcely heard
One by one, but all together
Welcoming the sunny weather.
In every bower hums a bee
Fluttering melodiously.
Murmurs joy in every brook,
Rippling with a pleasant look.
What greet they with their guileless bliss?
What welcome with a song like this?
See in the south a radiant form,
Her fair head crowned with roses;
From her bright foot-path flies the storm;
Upon her breast reposes
Many an unconfinèd tress,
Golden, glossy, motionless.
Face and form are love and light,
Soft ineffably, yet bright.
All her path is strewn with flowers,
Round her float the laughing Hours,
Heaven and earth make joyful din,
Welcoming sweet Summer in.
Her fair head crowned with roses;
From her bright foot-path flies the storm;
Upon her breast reposes
Many an unconfinèd tress,
Golden, glossy, motionless.
Face and form are love and light,
Soft ineffably, yet bright.
All her path is strewn with flowers,
Round her float the laughing Hours,
Heaven and earth make joyful din,
Welcoming sweet Summer in.
And now she alights on the Earth
To play with her children the flowers;
She touches the stems, and the buds have birth,
And gently she trains them in bowers.
And the bees and the birds are glad,
And the wind catches warmth from her breath,
And around her is nothing sad,
Nor any traces of death.
See now she lays her down
With roses for her crown,
With jessamine and myrtle
Forming her fragrant kirtle;
Conquered by softest slumbers
No more the hours she numbers,
The hours that intervene
Ere she may wing her flight
To play with her children the flowers;
She touches the stems, and the buds have birth,
And gently she trains them in bowers.
And the bees and the birds are glad,
And the wind catches warmth from her breath,
And around her is nothing sad,
Nor any traces of death.
See now she lays her down
With roses for her crown,
With jessamine and myrtle
Forming her fragrant kirtle;
Conquered by softest slumbers
No more the hours she numbers,
The hours that intervene
Ere she may wing her flight
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At length she reached a lonely spot, . . .
Why trembled she? why turned she pale?
A ruined Cross stood in the midst
Of a most quiet vale.
Why trembled she? why turned she pale?
A ruined Cross stood in the midst
Of a most quiet vale.
A Cross o'ergrown with moss and flowers,
A cross fast sinking to decay;
The Cross she knew, the Cross she loved
In childhood's happy day.
A cross fast sinking to decay;
The Cross she knew, the Cross she loved
In childhood's happy day.
And she had journeyed many miles,
Morning and eve untiringly,
To look again upon that Cross,
To look again and die.
Morning and eve untiringly,
To look again upon that Cross,
To look again and die.
She knelt within its sacred shade,
And hung her garland on the stone;
Her azure eyes were bright with tears
Of love and joy unknown.
And hung her garland on the stone;
Her azure eyes were bright with tears
Of love and joy unknown.
And there she knelt, and there she prayed
Until her heart was satisfied;—
The ancient Cross is standing yet,
The youthful wanderer died.
Until her heart was satisfied;—
The ancient Cross is standing yet,
The youthful wanderer died.
Eva.
Yes, I loved him all too well,
And my punishment is just,
But its greatness who can tell?
Still I have a stedfast trust
That the sorrow shall not last,
And the trial shall be past,
And my faith shall anchor fast.
And my punishment is just,
But its greatness who can tell?
Still I have a stedfast trust
That the sorrow shall not last,
And the trial shall be past,
And my faith shall anchor fast.
Lord, Thou knowest, I have said,
All is good that comes from Thee;
Unto Thee I bow my head.
I have not repented me.
Still, oh! still 'tis bitter ill;
Still I have a stubborn will,
And my heart is haughty still:
All is good that comes from Thee;
Unto Thee I bow my head.
I have not repented me.
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Still I have a stubborn will,
And my heart is haughty still:
Haughty in its humbleness;
Proud in its idolatry;
Let the loved heel gall and press
On my neck: so it should be.
'Twas in madness that I spake it:
Let him leave my heart or take it,
Let him heal my heart or break it;
Proud in its idolatry;
Let the loved heel gall and press
On my neck: so it should be.
'Twas in madness that I spake it:
Let him leave my heart or take it,
Let him heal my heart or break it;
But it still shall be for him,
It shall love him only still.—
Nay, it was no passing whim,
But a woman's stedfast will.
And this word is aye returning:
And I cannot quell the yearning
That in breast and brain is burning.
It shall love him only still.—
Nay, it was no passing whim,
But a woman's stedfast will.
And this word is aye returning:
And I cannot quell the yearning
That in breast and brain is burning.
Tears of mine may quench it never,
Bitter tears shed all alone;
Dropping, dropping, dropping ever
For the thought of him that's gone:
Dropping when none see or know.
Woe is me! they only flow
For the joys of long ago.
Bitter tears shed all alone;
Dropping, dropping, dropping ever
For the thought of him that's gone:
Dropping when none see or know.
Woe is me! they only flow
For the joys of long ago.
Foolish one, were it not fitter
For thyself to mourn and pray?
Tho' thy Father's cup be bitter,
Put it not from thee away.
It is good and meet and right.
Yea, if darksome be the night,
The day dawn shall be more bright.
For thyself to mourn and pray?
Tho' thy Father's cup be bitter,
Put it not from thee away.
It is good and meet and right.
Yea, if darksome be the night,
The day dawn shall be more bright.
Hast thou too much time, in sooth,
For the work of penitence,
That thou wastest tears and youth
Mourning one who is gone hence?
For thyself cry out and weep
Ere that thou lie down and sleep,
And for ever silence keep.
For the work of penitence,
That thou wastest tears and youth
Mourning one who is gone hence?
For thyself cry out and weep
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And for ever silence keep.
Humbly strive to enter in
By the strait and narrow gate;
Strive the courts of Heaven to win,
Where nought maketh desolate;
Where are none to come and go;
Where no tears may ever flow;
Where nor death may be, nor woe.
By the strait and narrow gate;
Strive the courts of Heaven to win,
Where nought maketh desolate;
Where are none to come and go;
Where no tears may ever flow;
Where nor death may be, nor woe.
And in prayer think thou of him
Who hath left thee sad and lone.
Pray that earth's light may grow dim,
So to him Heaven's light be shown.
Pray that, all thy sins forgiven,
Pray that, from his errors shriven,
Ye may meet at length in Heaven.
Who hath left thee sad and lone.
Pray that earth's light may grow dim,
So to him Heaven's light be shown.
Pray that, all thy sins forgiven,
Pray that, from his errors shriven,
Ye may meet at length in Heaven.
Love ephemeral.
Love is sweet, and so are flowersBlooming in bright summer bowers;
So are waters, clear and pure,
In some hidden fountain's store;
So is the soft southern breeze
Sighing low among the trees;
So is the bright queen of heaven,
Reigning in the quiet even:
Yet the pallid moon may breed
Madness in man's feeble seed;
And the wind's soft influence
Often breathes the pestilence;
And the waves may sullied be
As they hurry to the sea;
Flowers soon must fade away—
Love endures but for a day.
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Burial Anthem.
Flesh of our flesh—bone of our bone—(For thou and we in Christ are one)
Thy soul unto its rest hath flown,
And thou has left us all alone
Our weary race to run
In doubt, and want, and sin, and pain,
Whilst thou wilt never sin again.
For us remaineth heaviness;
Thou never more shalt feel distress,
For thou hast found repose
Beside the bright eternal river
That clear and pure flows on for ever,
And sings as on it flows.
And it is better far for thee
To reach at once thy rest,
Than share with us earth's misery,
Or tainted joy at best;
Brother, we will not mourn for thee,
Although our hearts be weary
Of struggling with our enemy,
When all around is dreary.
But we will pray that still we may
Press onward in the narrow way
With a calm thankful resignation,
And joy in this our desolation.
And we will hope at length to be
With our Great Head, and, friend! with thee
Beside that river blest.
Sappho.
I sigh at day-dawn, and I sighWhen the dull day is passing by.
I sigh at evening, and again
I sigh when night brings sleep to men.
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Than thus for ever mourn and sigh,
And in death's dreamless sleep to be
Unconscious that none weep for me;
Eased from my weight of heaviness,
Forgetful of forgetfulness,
Resting from pain and care and sorrow
Thro' the long night that knows no morrow;
Living unloved, to die unknown,
Unwept, untended and alone.
Tasso and Leonora.
A glorious vision hovers o'er his soul,Gilding the prison and the weary bed
Though hard the pillow placed beneath his head;
Though brackish be the water in the bowl
Beside him; he can see the planets roll
In glowing adoration, without dread;
Knowing how, by unerring wisdom led,
They struggle not against the strong control.
When suddenly a star shoots from the skies,
Than all the other stars more purely bright,
Replete with heavenly loves and harmonies;
He starts:—what meets his full awakening sight?
Lo! Leonora with large humid eyes,
Gazing upon him in the misty light.
ON THE DEATH OF A CAT,
A Friend of Mine, Aged Ten Years and a Half.
Who shall tell the lady's grief
When her Cat was past relief?
Who shall number the hot tears
Shed o'er her, beloved for years?
Who shall say the dark dismay
Which her dying caused that day?
When her Cat was past relief?
Who shall number the hot tears
Shed o'er her, beloved for years?
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Which her dying caused that day?
Come, ye Muses, one and all,
Come obedient to my call.
Come and mourn, with tuneful breath,
Each one for a separate death;
And while you in numbers sigh,
I will sing her elegy.
Come obedient to my call.
Come and mourn, with tuneful breath,
Each one for a separate death;
And while you in numbers sigh,
I will sing her elegy.
Of a noble race she came,
And Grimalkin was her name.
Young and old full many a mouse
Felt the prowess of her house:
Weak and strong full many a rat
Cowered beneath her crushing pat:
And the birds around the place
Shrank from her too close embrace.
But one night, reft of her strength,
She laid down and died at length:
Lay a kitten by her side,
In whose life the mother died.
Spare her line and lineage,
Guard her kitten's tender age,
And that kitten's name as wide
Shall be known as her's that died.
And Grimalkin was her name.
Young and old full many a mouse
Felt the prowess of her house:
Weak and strong full many a rat
Cowered beneath her crushing pat:
And the birds around the place
Shrank from her too close embrace.
But one night, reft of her strength,
She laid down and died at length:
Lay a kitten by her side,
In whose life the mother died.
Spare her line and lineage,
Guard her kitten's tender age,
And that kitten's name as wide
Shall be known as her's that died.
And whoever passes by
The poor grave where Puss doth lie,
Softly, softly let him tread,
Nor disturb her narrow bed.
The poor grave where Puss doth lie,
Softly, softly let him tread,
Nor disturb her narrow bed.
Mother and Child.
“What art thou thinking of,” said the Mother,
“What art thou thinking of my child?”
“I was thinking of Heaven,” he answered her,
And looked up in her face and smiled.
“What art thou thinking of my child?”
“I was thinking of Heaven,” he answered her,
And looked up in her face and smiled.
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“And what didst thou think of Heaven?” she said;
“Tell me, my little one!”
“Oh . . , I thought that there the flowers never fade,
That there never sets the sun.”
“Tell me, my little one!”
“Oh . . , I thought that there the flowers never fade,
That there never sets the sun.”
“And wouldst thou love to go thither, my child?
Thither wouldst thou love to go?
And leave the pretty flowers that wither,
And the sun that sets below?”
Thither wouldst thou love to go?
And leave the pretty flowers that wither,
And the sun that sets below?”
“Oh, I would be glad to go there, mother,
To go and live there now;
And I would pray for thy coming, mother,
My mother, wouldst not thou?”
To go and live there now;
And I would pray for thy coming, mother,
My mother, wouldst not thou?”
FAIR MARGARET.
“Fair Margaret sat in her bower window,
Combing her yellow hair;
There she spied sweet William and his bride
As they were a riding near.”
—Old Ballad.
Combing her yellow hair;
There she spied sweet William and his bride
As they were a riding near.”
—Old Ballad.
The faith of years is broken,
The fate of years is spoken,
Years past, and years to come;
I pity and I scorn thee,
I would not now adorn me
For thy false bridal home.
The fate of years is spoken,
Years past, and years to come;
I pity and I scorn thee,
I would not now adorn me
For thy false bridal home.
Yet thou, perfidious wooer,
Thou yet mayst be the ruer,
For thou mayst meet with one
Who will not love thee really,
But cast kind glances merely
That thou mayst be undone.
Thou yet mayst be the ruer,
For thou mayst meet with one
Who will not love thee really,
But cast kind glances merely
That thou mayst be undone.
Soft eyes, and dark, and flashing,
Thy hopes may yet be dashing,
Thou yet mayst be deceived;
And then think on her sadly,
Whom once thou grievedst gladly,
Ere thou thyself wast grieved.
Thy hopes may yet be dashing,
Thou yet mayst be deceived;
And then think on her sadly,
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Ere thou thyself wast grieved.
And if despair should seize thee,
And urge thee to release thee
From weariness and life,
Oh! think on her who'll languish,
Bearing the bitter anguish
Of a heart's bitter strife.
And urge thee to release thee
From weariness and life,
Oh! think on her who'll languish,
Bearing the bitter anguish
Of a heart's bitter strife.
For, though I may not love thee,
Though calm as heaven above me,
My thoughts of thee must be,
I cannot break so lightly
The chain that bound me tightly,
Once bound my soul to thee.
Though calm as heaven above me,
My thoughts of thee must be,
I cannot break so lightly
The chain that bound me tightly,
Once bound my soul to thee.
Earth and Heaven.
Water calmly flowing,Sun-light deeply glowing,
Swans some river riding,
That is gently gliding
By the fresh green rushes;
The sweet rose that blushes,
Hyacinths whose dow'r
Is both scent and flow'r,
Skylark's soaring motion,
Sun-rise from the ocean,
Jewels that lie sparkling
'Neath the waters darkling,
Sea-weed, coral, amber,
Flow'rs that climb and clamber,
Or more lowly flourish
Where the earth may nourish;
All these are beautiful,
Of beauty Earth is full:—
Say, to our promised Heaven
Can greater charms be given?
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Glowing, indestructible,
What here below finds tainted birth
In the corrupted sons of Earth;
For, filling there and satisfying
Man's soul unchanging and undying,
Earth's fleeting joys and beauties far above,
In Heaven is Love.
Love attacked.
Love is more sweet than flowers,
But sooner dying;
Warmer than sunny hours,
But faster flying;
But sooner dying;
Warmer than sunny hours,
But faster flying;
Softer than music's whispers
Springing with day
To murmur till the vespers,
Then die away;
Springing with day
To murmur till the vespers,
Then die away;
More kind than friendship's greeting,
But as untrue,
Brighter than hope, but fleeting
More swiftly too;
But as untrue,
Brighter than hope, but fleeting
More swiftly too;
Like breath of summer breezes
Gently it sighs,
But soon, alas! one ceases,
The other dies;
Gently it sighs,
But soon, alas! one ceases,
The other dies;
And like an inundation
It leaves behind
An utter desolation
Of heart and mind.
It leaves behind
An utter desolation
Of heart and mind.
Who then would court Love's presence,
If here below
It can but be the essence
Of restless woe?
If here below
It can but be the essence
Of restless woe?
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Returned or unrequited
'Tis still the same;
The flame was never lighted,
Or sinks the flame.
'Tis still the same;
The flame was never lighted,
Or sinks the flame.
Yet all, both fools and sages,
Have felt its power,
In distant lands and ages,
Here, at this hour.
Have felt its power,
In distant lands and ages,
Here, at this hour.
Then what from fear and weeping
Shall give me rest?
Oh tell me, ye who sleeping
At length are blest!
Shall give me rest?
Oh tell me, ye who sleeping
At length are blest!
In answer to my crying
Sounds like incense
Rose from the earth, replying,
Indifference.
Sounds like incense
Rose from the earth, replying,
Indifference.
Love defended.
Who extols a wilderness?
Who hath praised indifference?
Foolish one, thy words are sweet,
But devoid of sense.
Who hath praised indifference?
Foolish one, thy words are sweet,
But devoid of sense.
As the man who ne'er hath seen,
Or as he who cannot hear,
Is the heart that hath no part
In Love's hope and fear.
Or as he who cannot hear,
Is the heart that hath no part
In Love's hope and fear.
True, the blind do not perceive
The unsightly things around;
True, the deaf man trembleth not
At an awful sound.
The unsightly things around;
True, the deaf man trembleth not
At an awful sound.
But the face of Heaven and Earth,
And the murmur of the main,
Surely are a recompense
For a little pain.
And the murmur of the main,
Surely are a recompense
For a little pain.
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So, tho' Love may not be free
Always from a taint of grief,
If its sting is very sharp,
Great is its relief.
Always from a taint of grief,
If its sting is very sharp,
Great is its relief.
Divine and Human Pleading.
“I would the saints could hear our prayers!
If such a thing might be,
O blessed Mary Magdalene,
I would appeal to thee!
If such a thing might be,
O blessed Mary Magdalene,
I would appeal to thee!
“For once in lowly penitence
Thy head was bowed with shame;
But now thou hast a glorious place,
And hast an unknown name.”
Thy head was bowed with shame;
But now thou hast a glorious place,
And hast an unknown name.”
So mused a trembling contrite man,
So mused he wearily;
By angels borne his thoughts appeared
Before the Throne on high.
[OMITTED]
So mused he wearily;
By angels borne his thoughts appeared
Before the Throne on high.
The calm, still night was at its noon,
And all men were at rest,
When came before the sleeper's eyes
A vision of the blest.
And all men were at rest,
When came before the sleeper's eyes
A vision of the blest.
A woman stood beside his bed,
Her breath was fragrance all;
Round her the light was very bright,
The air was musical.
Her breath was fragrance all;
Round her the light was very bright,
The air was musical.
Her footsteps shone upon the stars,
Her robe was spotless white;
Her breast was radiant with the Cross,
Her head with living light.
Her robe was spotless white;
Her breast was radiant with the Cross,
Her head with living light.
Her eyes beamed with a sacred fire;
And on her shoulders fair,
From underneath her golden crown
Clustered her golden hair.
And on her shoulders fair,
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Clustered her golden hair.
Yet on her bosom her white hands
Were folded quietly;
Yet was her glorious head bowed low
In deep humility.
Were folded quietly;
Yet was her glorious head bowed low
In deep humility.
Long time she looked upon the ground;
Then raising her bright eyes
Her voice came forth as sweet and soft
As music when it dies.
Then raising her bright eyes
Her voice came forth as sweet and soft
As music when it dies.
“O thou who in thy secret hour
Hast dared to think that aught
Is faulty in God's perfect plan,
And perfect in thy thought!
Hast dared to think that aught
Is faulty in God's perfect plan,
And perfect in thy thought!
“Thou who the pleadings would'st prefer
Of one sin-stained like me
To His Who is the Lord of Life,
To His Who died for thee!
Of one sin-stained like me
To His Who is the Lord of Life,
To His Who died for thee!
“In mercy I am sent from Heaven:
Be timely wise, and learn
To seek His love Who waits for thee,
Inviting thy return.
Be timely wise, and learn
To seek His love Who waits for thee,
Inviting thy return.
“Well know I His long-suffering
And intercession's worth;
My guilt was as a heavy chain
That bound me to the earth.
And intercession's worth;
My guilt was as a heavy chain
That bound me to the earth.
“It was a clog upon my feet,
To keep me from Life's path;
It was a stain upon my hands,
A curse upon my hearth.
To keep me from Life's path;
It was a stain upon my hands,
A curse upon my hearth.
“But there is mighty Power and Grace
Can loose the heavy chain,
Can free the feet, can cleanse the hands,
Can purge the hearth again.
Can loose the heavy chain,
Can free the feet, can cleanse the hands,
Can purge the hearth again.
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“Weeping I sought the Lord of Life,
Bowed with my shame and sin;
And then unto my wondering heart
Love's searching fire came in.
Bowed with my shame and sin;
And then unto my wondering heart
Love's searching fire came in.
“It was with deep repentance,
I knelt down at His Feet
Who can change the sorrow into joy,
The bitter into sweet.
I knelt down at His Feet
Who can change the sorrow into joy,
The bitter into sweet.
“I had cast away my jewels
And my rich attire;
And my breast was filled with a holy flame,
And my heart with a holy fire.
And my rich attire;
And my breast was filled with a holy flame,
And my heart with a holy fire.
“My tears were more precious
Than my precious pearls;—
My tears that fell upon His Feet
As I wiped Them with my curls.
Than my precious pearls;—
My tears that fell upon His Feet
As I wiped Them with my curls.
“My youth and my beauty
Were budding to their prime;
But I wept for the great transgression,
The sin of other time.
Were budding to their prime;
But I wept for the great transgression,
The sin of other time.
“Trembling betwixt hope and fear,
I sought the King of Heaven;
Forsook the evil of my ways,
Loved much, and was forgiven.
I sought the King of Heaven;
Forsook the evil of my ways,
Loved much, and was forgiven.
“In hope and fear I went to Him,
He broke and healed my heart;
No man was there to intercede;
As I was, so thou art.”
He broke and healed my heart;
No man was there to intercede;
As I was, so thou art.”
TO MY FRIEND ELIZABETH.
Sweetest Elizabeth, accept I prayThese lowly stamps I send in homage true;
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Are not to be despised, though poor to view.
Their livery of red and black, nor gay,
Nor sober all, is typical of you,
In whom are gravity and gladness mixed.
Thought here, smiles there; perfection lies betwixt.
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Love and Hope.
Love for ever dwells in Heaven,
Hope entereth not there.
To despairing man Love's given,
Hope dwells not with despair.
Love reigneth high, and reigneth low, and reigneth everywhere.
Hope entereth not there.
To despairing man Love's given,
Hope dwells not with despair.
Love reigneth high, and reigneth low, and reigneth everywhere.
In the inmost heart Love dwelleth,
It may not quenchèd be;
E'en when the life-blood welleth
Its fond effects we see.
In the name that leaves the lips the last, fades last from memory.
It may not quenchèd be;
E'en when the life-blood welleth
Its fond effects we see.
In the name that leaves the lips the last, fades last from memory.
And when we shall awaken
Ascending to the sky,
Tho' Hope shall have forsaken,
Sweet Love shall never die.
For perfect Love, and perfect bliss, shall be our lot on high.
Ascending to the sky,
Tho' Hope shall have forsaken,
Sweet Love shall never die.
For perfect Love, and perfect bliss, shall be our lot on high.
Serenade.
Come, wander forth with me! the orange flowersBreathe faintest perfume from the summer bowers.
Come, wander forth with me! the moon on high
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Around her car each burning star
Gleams like a beacon from afar;
The night-wind scarce disturbs the sea
As it sighs forth so languidly,
Laden with sweetness like a bee;
And all is still, below, above,
Save murmurs of the turtle dove,
That murmurs ever of its love:
For now 'tis the hour, the balmy hour
When the strains of love have chiefly power;
When the maid looks forth from her latticed bower,
With a gentle yielding smile,
Donning her mantle all the while.
Now the moon beams down on high
From her halo brilliantly;
By the dark clouds unencumbered
That once o'er her pale face slumbered.
Far from her mild rays flutters Folly,
For on them floats calm Melancholy.
A passionless sadness without dread,
Like the thought of those we loved long dead,
Full of hope and chastened joy,
Heavenly without earth's alloy.
Listen, dearest! all is quiet,
Slumb'ring the world's toil and riot,
And all is fair in earth and sky and sea,
Come, wander forth with me!
The Rose.
Gentle, gentle river
Hurrying along
With a sparkle ever,
And a murmured song,
Pause in thine onward motion,
Fast flowing toward the ocean,
And give this rose from me
To haughty Coralie.
Hurrying along
With a sparkle ever,
And a murmured song,
Pause in thine onward motion,
Fast flowing toward the ocean,
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To haughty Coralie.
Tell her that love's symbol,
The deep blushing rose,
Doth in all resemble
That it would disclose.
Untended, shortly thriving
There'll soon be no reviving;
But nursed with kindliness
'T will cheer life's wilderness.
The deep blushing rose,
Doth in all resemble
That it would disclose.
Untended, shortly thriving
There'll soon be no reviving;
But nursed with kindliness
'T will cheer life's wilderness.
Present and Future.
What is life that we should love it,
Cherishing it evermore,
Never prizing aught above it,
Ever loath to give it o'er?
Is it goodness? Is it gladness?
Nay, 'tis more of sin and sadness,
Nay, of weariness 'tis more.
Cherishing it evermore,
Never prizing aught above it,
Ever loath to give it o'er?
Is it goodness? Is it gladness?
Nay, 'tis more of sin and sadness,
Nay, of weariness 'tis more.
Earthly joys are very fleeting—
Earthly sorrows very long;—
Parting ever follows meeting,
Night succeeds to even-song.
Storms may darken in the morning,
And eclipse the sun's bright dawning,
And the chilly gloom prolong.
Earthly sorrows very long;—
Parting ever follows meeting,
Night succeeds to even-song.
Storms may darken in the morning,
And eclipse the sun's bright dawning,
And the chilly gloom prolong.
But though clouds may screen and hide it
The sun shines for evermore;
Then bear grief in hope: abide it,
Knowing that it must give o'er:
And the darkness shall flee from us,
And the sun beam down upon us
Ever glowing more and more.
The sun shines for evermore;
Then bear grief in hope: abide it,
Knowing that it must give o'er:
And the darkness shall flee from us,
And the sun beam down upon us
Ever glowing more and more.
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WILL THESE HANDS NE'ER BE CLEAN?
And who is this lies prostrate at thy feet?
And is he dead, thou man of wrath and pride?
Yes, now thy vengeance is complete,
Thy hate is satisfied.
What had he done to merit this of thee?
Who gave thee power to take away his life?
Oh deeply-rooted direful enmity
That ended in long strife!
See where he grasped thy mantle as he fell,
Staining it with his blood; how terrible
Must be the payment due for this in hell!
And is he dead, thou man of wrath and pride?
Yes, now thy vengeance is complete,
Thy hate is satisfied.
What had he done to merit this of thee?
Who gave thee power to take away his life?
Oh deeply-rooted direful enmity
That ended in long strife!
See where he grasped thy mantle as he fell,
Staining it with his blood; how terrible
Must be the payment due for this in hell!
And dost thou think to go and see no more
Thy bleeding victim, now the struggle's o'er?
To find out peace in other lands,
And wash the red mark from thy hands?
It shall not be; for everywhere
He shall be with thee; and the air
Shall smell of blood, and on the wind
His groans pursue thee close behind.
When waking he shall stand before thee;
And when at length sleep shall come o'er thee,
Powerless to move, alive to dream,
So dreadful shall thy visions seem
That thou shalt own them even to be
More hateful than reality
What time thou stoopest down to drink
Of limpid waters, thou shalt think
It is thy foe's blood bubbles up
From the polluted fountain's cup,
That stains thy lip, that cries to Heaven
For vengeance—and it shall be given.
Thy bleeding victim, now the struggle's o'er?
To find out peace in other lands,
And wash the red mark from thy hands?
It shall not be; for everywhere
He shall be with thee; and the air
Shall smell of blood, and on the wind
His groans pursue thee close behind.
When waking he shall stand before thee;
And when at length sleep shall come o'er thee,
Powerless to move, alive to dream,
So dreadful shall thy visions seem
That thou shalt own them even to be
More hateful than reality
What time thou stoopest down to drink
Of limpid waters, thou shalt think
It is thy foe's blood bubbles up
From the polluted fountain's cup,
That stains thy lip, that cries to Heaven
For vengeance—and it shall be given.
And when thy friends shall question thee,
“Why art thou changed so heavily?”
Trembling and fearful thou shalt say
“I am not changed,” and turn away;
For such an outcast shalt thou be
Thou wilt not dare ask sympathy.
“Why art thou changed so heavily?”
Trembling and fearful thou shalt say
“I am not changed,” and turn away;
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Thou wilt not dare ask sympathy.
And so thy life will pass, and day by day
The current of existence flow away;
And though to thee earth shall be hell, and breath
Vengeance, yet thou shalt tremble more at death.
And one by one thy friends will learn to fear thee,
And thou shalt live without a hope to cheer thee;
Lonely amid a thousand, chained though free,
The curse of memory shall cling to thee:
Ages may pass away, worlds rise and set—
But thou shalt not forget.
The current of existence flow away;
And though to thee earth shall be hell, and breath
Vengeance, yet thou shalt tremble more at death.
And one by one thy friends will learn to fear thee,
And thou shalt live without a hope to cheer thee;
Lonely amid a thousand, chained though free,
The curse of memory shall cling to thee:
Ages may pass away, worlds rise and set—
But thou shalt not forget.
SIR EUSTACE GREY.
When I die, oh lay me lowWhere the greenest grasses grow;
Where the happy stream meanders;
Where the deer securely wanders;
Where the sweet birds sit and sing
In the branches quivering;
Where the violets spring to die,
And the breezes passing by,
Laden with their fragrant breath,
Scarcely seem to tell of death;
Where the sun can dart no ray
In the noon-tide of his day;
Where upon the fertile ground
Broods an everlasting shade,
And a strange, mysterious sound
By the rustling boughs is made,
And all's quiet, meet for one
Whose long, toilsome race is run.
O'er my grave the turf extend,
But beside me lay no friend,
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I would lie there all alone,
Unremembered or unknown.
Soon forgotten, none will taunt me;
Soon forgetting, none will haunt me
Of the ghosts of former pleasures
Meted out with scanty measures.
Resting from all human passion,
From earth's hate and its compassion,
From its hope and fear, from love
Stedfast as the stars above,
That shine clearly down for ever
On some cold, unglowing river;
By my faith and hope sure lighted
Through the darkness of the tomb;
And by Heavenly Love requited
For whatever love was slighted,
And whatever joy was blighted
By earth's coldness and its gloom,
In the grave I'll rest secure
Till the appointed time is o'er,
And the work of love is done,
And the great sin; and the sun
Sets in night to rise no more.
What is life but toil and riot?
What is death but rest and quiet?
Life is but a dream of trouble,
Death calm sleep from visions free;
Life is but a bursting bubble,
Death is immortality.
THE TIME OF WAITING.
Life is fleeting, joy is fleeting,
Coldness follows love and greeting,
Parting still succeeds to meeting.
Coldness follows love and greeting,
Parting still succeeds to meeting.
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If I say, “Rejoice today,”
Sorrow meets me in the way,
I cannot my will obey.
Sorrow meets me in the way,
I cannot my will obey.
If I say, “My grief shall cease;
Now then I will live in peace:”
My cares instantly increase.
Now then I will live in peace:”
My cares instantly increase.
When I look up to the sky,
Thinking to see light on high,
Clouds my searching glance defy.
Thinking to see light on high,
Clouds my searching glance defy.
When I look upon the earth
For the flowers that should have birth,
I find dreariness and dearth.
For the flowers that should have birth,
I find dreariness and dearth.
And the wind sighs on for ever,
Murmurs still the flowing river,
On the graves the sun-beams quiver.
Murmurs still the flowing river,
On the graves the sun-beams quiver.
And destruction waxes bold,
And the earth is growing old,
And I tremble in the cold.
And the earth is growing old,
And I tremble in the cold.
And my weariness increases
To an ache that never ceases,
And a pain that ne'er decreases.
To an ache that never ceases,
And a pain that ne'er decreases.
And the times are turbulent,
And the Holy Church is rent,
And who tremble or repent?
And the Holy Church is rent,
And who tremble or repent?
And loud cries do ever rise
To the portals of the skies
From our earthly miseries;
To the portals of the skies
From our earthly miseries;
From love slighted, not requited;
From high hope that should have lighted
All our path up, now benighted;
From high hope that should have lighted
All our path up, now benighted;
From the woes of human kind;
From the darkness of the mind;
From all anguish undefined;
From the darkness of the mind;
From all anguish undefined;
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From the heart that's crushed and sinking;
From the brain grown blank with thinking;
From the spirit sorrow drinking.
From the brain grown blank with thinking;
From the spirit sorrow drinking.
All cry out with pleading strong:
“Vengeance, Lord; how long, how long
Shall we suffer this great wrong?”
“Vengeance, Lord; how long, how long
Shall we suffer this great wrong?”
And the pleading and the cry
Of earth's sons are heard on high,
And are noted verily.
Of earth's sons are heard on high,
And are noted verily.
When this world shall be no more,
The Oppressors shall endure
The great Vengeance, which is sure.
The Oppressors shall endure
The great Vengeance, which is sure.
And the sinful shall remain
To an endless death and pain;
But the good shall live again,
To an endless death and pain;
But the good shall live again,
Never more to be oppressed;
Balm shall heal the bleeding breast,
And the weary be at rest.
Balm shall heal the bleeding breast,
And the weary be at rest.
All shall vanish of dejection,
Grief, and fear, and imperfection,
In that glorious Resurrection.
Grief, and fear, and imperfection,
In that glorious Resurrection.
Heed not then a night of sorrow,
If the dawning of the morrow
From past grief fresh beams shall borrow.
If the dawning of the morrow
From past grief fresh beams shall borrow.
Thankful for whate'er is given,
Strive we, as we ne'er have striven,
For love's sake to be forgiven.
Strive we, as we ne'er have striven,
For love's sake to be forgiven.
Then, the dark clouds opening,
Ev'n to us the sun shall bring
Gladness; and sweet flowers shall spring.
Ev'n to us the sun shall bring
Gladness; and sweet flowers shall spring.
For Christ's guiding Love alway,
For the everlasting Day,
For meek patience, let us pray.
For the everlasting Day,
For meek patience, let us pray.
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Charity.
I praised the myrtle and the rose,
At sunrise in their beauty vying;
I passed them at the short day's close,
And both were dying.
At sunrise in their beauty vying;
I passed them at the short day's close,
And both were dying.
The summer sun his rays was throwing
Brightly; yet ere I sought my rest,
His last cold ray, more deeply glowing,
Died in the west.
Brightly; yet ere I sought my rest,
His last cold ray, more deeply glowing,
Died in the west.
After this bleak world's stormy weather,
All, all, save Love alone, shall die;
For Faith and Hope shall merge together
In Charity.
All, all, save Love alone, shall die;
For Faith and Hope shall merge together
In Charity.
The Dead Bride.
There she lay so still and pale,
With her bridal robes around her:
Joy is fleeting—life is frail—
Death had found her.
With her bridal robes around her:
Joy is fleeting—life is frail—
Death had found her.
Gone for ever: gone away
From the love and light of earth;
Gone for ever: who shall say
Where her second birth?
From the love and light of earth;
Gone for ever: who shall say
Where her second birth?
Had her life been good and kind?
Had her heart been meek and pure?
Was she of a lowly mind,
Ready to endure?
Had her heart been meek and pure?
Was she of a lowly mind,
Ready to endure?
Did she still console the sad,
Soothe the widow's anguish wild,
Make the poor and needy glad,
Tend the orphan child?
Soothe the widow's anguish wild,
Make the poor and needy glad,
Tend the orphan child?
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Who shall say what hope and fear
Crowded in her short life's span?
If the love of God was dear,
Or the love of man?
Crowded in her short life's span?
If the love of God was dear,
Or the love of man?
Happy bride if single-hearted
Her first love to God was given;
If from this world she departed
But to dwell in Heaven;
Her first love to God was given;
If from this world she departed
But to dwell in Heaven;
If her faith on Heaven was fixed,
And her hope; if love's pure worth
Made her rich indeed, unmixed
With the dross of earth.
And her hope; if love's pure worth
Made her rich indeed, unmixed
With the dross of earth.
But alas! if tainted pleasure
Won her heart and held it here,
Where is now her failing treasure,
All her gladness where? . . . . .
Won her heart and held it here,
Where is now her failing treasure,
All her gladness where? . . . . .
Hush, too curious questioner;
Hush and think thine own sins o'er:
Little canst thou learn from her;
For we know no more
Hush and think thine own sins o'er:
Little canst thou learn from her;
For we know no more
Than that there she lies all pale
With her bridal robes around her:
Joy is fleeting—life is frail—
Death hath found her.
With her bridal robes around her:
Joy is fleeting—life is frail—
Death hath found her.
LIFE OUT OF DEATH.
“Now I've said all I would, mother;
My head is on thy breast,
And I feel I can die without a sigh,
And sink into my rest.
My head is on thy breast,
And I feel I can die without a sigh,
And sink into my rest.
“And if ever you weep o'er my grave, mother,
Weep not for doubt or sadness;
I shall fall asleep in pain and in grief,
But wake to perfect gladness.”
Weep not for doubt or sadness;
I shall fall asleep in pain and in grief,
But wake to perfect gladness.”
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Mourn not, thou mother of the dead,
That in her youth she died;
for He was with her then Who said:
“Ye that in me abide,
Ask what ye will, it shall be given;
Faith, hope, and love on earth, and Love and Joy in Heaven.”
That in her youth she died;
for He was with her then Who said:
“Ye that in me abide,
Ask what ye will, it shall be given;
Faith, hope, and love on earth, and Love and Joy in Heaven.”
The solitary Rose.
O happy Rose, red Rose, that bloomest lonely
Where there are none to gather while they love thee;
That art perfumed by thine own fragrance only,
Resting like incense round thee and above thee;—
Thou hearest nought save some pure stream that flows,
O happy Rose.
Where there are none to gather while they love thee;
That art perfumed by thine own fragrance only,
Resting like incense round thee and above thee;—
Thou hearest nought save some pure stream that flows,
O happy Rose.
What tho' for thee no nightingales are singing?
They chant one eve, but hush them in the morning.
Near thee no little moths and bees are winging
To steal thy honey when the day is dawning;—
Thou keep'st thy sweetness till the twilight's close,
O happy Rose.
They chant one eve, but hush them in the morning.
Near thee no little moths and bees are winging
To steal thy honey when the day is dawning;—
Thou keep'st thy sweetness till the twilight's close,
O happy Rose.
Then rest in peace, thou lone and lovely flower;
Yea be thou glad, knowing that none are near thee
To mar thy beauty in a wanton hour,
And scatter all thy leaves, nor deign to wear thee.
Securely in thy solitude repose,
O happy Rose.
Yea be thou glad, knowing that none are near thee
To mar thy beauty in a wanton hour,
And scatter all thy leaves, nor deign to wear thee.
Securely in thy solitude repose,
O happy Rose.
Lady Isabella.
Lady Isabella,
Thou art gone away,
Leaving earth's darksome trouble,
To rest until the Day.
Thou art gone away,
Leaving earth's darksome trouble,
To rest until the Day.
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From thy youth and beauty,
From each loving friend,
Thou art gone to the land of sure repose,
Where fears and sorrows end.
From each loving friend,
Thou art gone to the land of sure repose,
Where fears and sorrows end.
Thou wert pure whilst with us;
Now, we trust, in Heaven,
All thy tears are wiped away,
All thy sins forgiven.
Now, we trust, in Heaven,
All thy tears are wiped away,
All thy sins forgiven.
Who would wish thee back again
But to share our sorrow?
Who would grudge thine hour of rest,
Ere the coming morrow?
But to share our sorrow?
Who would grudge thine hour of rest,
Ere the coming morrow?
Let us rejoice the rather
That thou hast reached that shore,
Whilst yet thy soul was spotless,
And thy young spirit pure.
That thou hast reached that shore,
Whilst yet thy soul was spotless,
And thy young spirit pure.
And if thy crown be brighter
By but one little ray,
Why wish to dim its lustre? . .
Oh! rather let us pray
That when we are most fitted
We too may pass away.
By but one little ray,
Why wish to dim its lustre? . .
Oh! rather let us pray
That when we are most fitted
We too may pass away.
THE DREAM.
Rest, rest; the troubled breast
Panteth evermore for rest:—
Be it sleep, or be it death,
Rest is all it coveteth.
Panteth evermore for rest:—
Be it sleep, or be it death,
Rest is all it coveteth.
Tell me, dost thou remember the old time
We sat together by that sunny stream,
And dreamed our happiness was too sublime
Only to be a dream?
We sat together by that sunny stream,
And dreamed our happiness was too sublime
Only to be a dream?
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Gazing, till steadfast gazing made us blind,
We watched the fishes leaping at their play;
Thinking our love too tender and too kind
Ever to pass away.
We watched the fishes leaping at their play;
Thinking our love too tender and too kind
Ever to pass away.
And some of all our thoughts were true at least
What time we thought together by that stream;
THY happiness has evermore increased,—
MY love was not a dream.
What time we thought together by that stream;
THY happiness has evermore increased,—
MY love was not a dream.
And now that thou art gone, I often sit
On its green margin, for thou once wert there;
And see the clouds that, floating over it,
Darken the quiet air.
On its green margin, for thou once wert there;
And see the clouds that, floating over it,
Darken the quiet air.
Yes, oftentimes I sit beside it now,
Harkning the wavelets ripple o'er the sands;
Until again I hear thy whispered vow
And feel thy pressing hands.
Harkning the wavelets ripple o'er the sands;
Until again I hear thy whispered vow
And feel thy pressing hands.
Then the bright sun seems to stand still in heaven,
The stream sings gladly as it onward flows,
The rushes grow more green, the grass more even,
Blossoms the budding rose.
The stream sings gladly as it onward flows,
The rushes grow more green, the grass more even,
Blossoms the budding rose.
I say: “It is a joy-dream; I will take it;
He is not gone; he will return to me.”
What found'st thou in my heart that thou should'st break it?—
How have I injured thee?
He is not gone; he will return to me.”
What found'st thou in my heart that thou should'st break it?—
How have I injured thee?
Oh! I am weary of life's passing show,—
Its pageant and its pain.
I would I could lie down lone in my woe,
Ne'er to rise up again;
I would I could lie down where none might know;
For truly love is vain.
Truly love's vain; but oh! how vainer still
Is that which is not love, but seems;
Concealed indifference, a covered ill,
A very dream of dreams.
Its pageant and its pain.
I would I could lie down lone in my woe,
Ne'er to rise up again;
I would I could lie down where none might know;
For truly love is vain.
Truly love's vain; but oh! how vainer still
Is that which is not love, but seems;
Concealed indifference, a covered ill,
A very dream of dreams.
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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.
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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 Martyr.
See, the sun hath risen!
Lead her from the prison;
She is young and tender, lead her tenderly:
May no fear subdue her,
Lest the Saints be fewer,
Lest her place in Heaven be lost eternally.
Lead her from the prison;
She is young and tender, lead her tenderly:
May no fear subdue her,
Lest the Saints be fewer,
Lest her place in Heaven be lost eternally.
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Forth she came, not trembling,
No, nor yet dissembling
An o'erwhelming terror weighing her down—down;
Little, little heeding
Earth, but inly pleading
For the strength to triumph and to win a crown.
No, nor yet dissembling
An o'erwhelming terror weighing her down—down;
Little, little heeding
Earth, but inly pleading
For the strength to triumph and to win a crown.
All her might was rallied
To her heart; not pallid
Was her cheek, but glowing with a glorious red,
Glorious red and saintly,
Never paling faintly,
But still flushing, kindling still, without thought of dread.
To her heart; not pallid
Was her cheek, but glowing with a glorious red,
Glorious red and saintly,
Never paling faintly,
But still flushing, kindling still, without thought of dread.
On she went, on faster,
Trusting in her Master,
Feeling that His Eye watched o'er her lovingly;
He would prove and try her,
But would not deny her,
When her soul had pass'd, for His sake, patiently.
Trusting in her Master,
Feeling that His Eye watched o'er her lovingly;
He would prove and try her,
But would not deny her,
When her soul had pass'd, for His sake, patiently.
“Christ,” she said, “receive me,
Let no terrors grieve me,
Take my soul and guard it with Thy heavenly cares:
Take my soul and guard it,
Take it and reward it
With the Love Thou bearest for the love it bears.”
Let no terrors grieve me,
Take my soul and guard it with Thy heavenly cares:
Take my soul and guard it,
Take it and reward it
With the Love Thou bearest for the love it bears.”
Quickened with a fire
Of sublime desire,
She looked up to Heaven, and she cried aloud,
“Death, I do entreat thee,
Come! I go to meet thee;
Wrap me in the whiteness of a virgin shroud.”
Of sublime desire,
She looked up to Heaven, and she cried aloud,
“Death, I do entreat thee,
Come! I go to meet thee;
Wrap me in the whiteness of a virgin shroud.”
On she went, hope-laden;
Happy, happy maiden!
Never more to tremble, and to weep no more:
All her sins forgiven,
Straight the path to Heaven
Through the glowing fire lay her feet before.
Happy, happy maiden!
Never more to tremble, and to weep no more:
All her sins forgiven,
Straight the path to Heaven
Through the glowing fire lay her feet before.
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On she went, on quickly,
And her breath came thickly,
With the longing to see God coming pantingly:
Now the fire is kindled,
And her flesh has dwindled
Unto dust;—her soul is mounting up on high:
And her breath came thickly,
With the longing to see God coming pantingly:
Now the fire is kindled,
And her flesh has dwindled
Unto dust;—her soul is mounting up on high:
Higher, higher mounting,
The swift moments counting,
Fear is left beneath her, and the chastening rod:
Tears no more shall blind her,
Trouble lies behind her,
Satisfied with hopeful rest, and replete with God.
The swift moments counting,
Fear is left beneath her, and the chastening rod:
Tears no more shall blind her,
Trouble lies behind her,
Satisfied with hopeful rest, and replete with God.
The End of Time.
Thou who art dreary
With a cureless woe,
Thou who art weary
Of all things below,
Thou who art weeping
By the loved sick-bed,
Thou who art keeping
Watches o'er the dead,
Hope, hope! old Time flies fast upon his way,
And soon will cease the night, and soon will dawn the day.
With a cureless woe,
Thou who art weary
Of all things below,
Thou who art weeping
By the loved sick-bed,
Thou who art keeping
Watches o'er the dead,
Hope, hope! old Time flies fast upon his way,
And soon will cease the night, and soon will dawn the day.
The rose blooms brightly,
But it fades ere night;
And youth flies lightly,
Yet how sure its flight!
And still the river
Merges in the sea,
And death reigns ever
Whilst old Time shall be;
Yet hope! old Time flies fast upon his way,
And soon will cease the night, and soon will dawn the day.
But it fades ere night;
And youth flies lightly,
Yet how sure its flight!
And still the river
Merges in the sea,
And death reigns ever
Whilst old Time shall be;
Yet hope! old Time flies fast upon his way,
And soon will cease the night, and soon will dawn the day.
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All we most cherish
In this world below,
What tho' it perish?
It has aye been so.
So thro' all ages
It has ever been
To fools and sages,
Noble men and mean:
Yet hope, still hope! for Time flies on his way,
And soon will end the night, and soon will dawn the day.
In this world below,
What tho' it perish?
It has aye been so.
So thro' all ages
It has ever been
To fools and sages,
Noble men and mean:
Yet hope, still hope! for Time flies on his way,
And soon will end the night, and soon will dawn the day.
All of each nation
Shall that morning see
With exultation
Or with misery:
From watery slumbers,
From the opening sod,
Shall rise up numbers
To be judged by God.
Then hope and fear, for Time speeds on his way,
And soon must end the night, and soon must dawn the day.
Shall that morning see
With exultation
Or with misery:
From watery slumbers,
From the opening sod,
Shall rise up numbers
To be judged by God.
Then hope and fear, for Time speeds on his way,
And soon must end the night, and soon must dawn the day.
Resurrection Eve.
He resteth: weep not!The living sleep not
With so much calm:
He hears no chiding
And no deriding,
Hath joy for sorrow,
For night hath morrow,
For wounds hath balm,
For life's strange riot
Hath death and quiet.
Who would recall him
Of those that love him?
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No ills befal him;
There's nought above him
Save turf and flowers
And pleasant grass.
Pass the swift hours,
How swiftly pass!
The hours of slumber
He doth not number;
Grey hours of morning
Ere the day's dawning:
Brightened by gleams
Of the sun-beams,
By the foreseeing
Of Resurrection,
Of glorious being,
Of full perfection,
Of sins forgiven
Before the face
Of men and spirits;
Of God in Heaven,
The Resting Place
That he inherits.
ZARA.
Now the pain beginneth and the word is spoken;—
Hark unto the tolling of the churchyard chime!—
Once my heart was gladsome, now my heart is broken,—
Once my love was noble, now it is a crime.
Hark unto the tolling of the churchyard chime!—
Once my heart was gladsome, now my heart is broken,—
Once my love was noble, now it is a crime.
But the fear is over; yea, what now shall pain me?
Arm thee in thy sorrow, O most Desolate!
Weariness and weakness, these shall now sustain me,—
Pride and bitter grieving, burning love and hate.
Arm thee in thy sorrow, O most Desolate!
Weariness and weakness, these shall now sustain me,—
Pride and bitter grieving, burning love and hate.
112
Yea, the fear is over, the strong fear and trembling;
I can doubt no longer, he is gone indeed.
Rend thy hair, lost woman, weep without dissembling;
The heart torn forth from it, shall the breast not bleed?
I can doubt no longer, he is gone indeed.
Rend thy hair, lost woman, weep without dissembling;
The heart torn forth from it, shall the breast not bleed?
Happy she who looketh on his beauty's glory!
Happy she who listeneth to his gentle word!
Yet, O happy maiden, sorrow lies before thee;
Greeting hath been given, parting must be heard.
Happy she who listeneth to his gentle word!
Yet, O happy maiden, sorrow lies before thee;
Greeting hath been given, parting must be heard.
He shall leave thee also, he who now hath left me,
With a weary spirit and an aching heart;
Thou shalt be bereaved by him who hath bereft me;
Thou hast sucked the honey,—feel the stinging's smart.
With a weary spirit and an aching heart;
Thou shalt be bereaved by him who hath bereft me;
Thou hast sucked the honey,—feel the stinging's smart.
Let the cold gaze on him, let the heartless hear him,
For he shall not hurt them, they are safe in sooth:
But let loving women shun that man and fear him,
Full of cruel kindness and devoid of ruth.
For he shall not hurt them, they are safe in sooth:
But let loving women shun that man and fear him,
Full of cruel kindness and devoid of ruth.
When ye call upon him, hope for no replying;
When ye gaze upon him, think not he will look;
Hope not for his pity when your heart is sighing;
Such another, waiting, weeping, he forsook.
When ye gaze upon him, think not he will look;
Hope not for his pity when your heart is sighing;
Such another, waiting, weeping, he forsook.
Hath the Heaven no thunder wherewith to denounce him?
Hath the Heaven no lightning wherewith to chastise?
O my heart and spirit, O my soul, renounce him
Who hath called for vengeance from the distant skies.
Hath the Heaven no lightning wherewith to chastise?
O my heart and spirit, O my soul, renounce him
Who hath called for vengeance from the distant skies.
Vengeance which pursues thee, vengeance which shall find thee,
Crushing thy false spirit, scathing thy fair limb:—
O ye thunders deafen, O ye lightnings blind me,
Winds and storms from heaven, strike me but spare him.
Crushing thy false spirit, scathing thy fair limb:—
O ye thunders deafen, O ye lightnings blind me,
Winds and storms from heaven, strike me but spare him.
I forgive thee, dearest, cruel, I forgive thee;—
May thy cup of sorrow be poured out for me;
Though the dregs be bitter yet they shall not grieve me,
Knowing that I drink them, O my love, for thee.
May thy cup of sorrow be poured out for me;
Though the dregs be bitter yet they shall not grieve me,
Knowing that I drink them, O my love, for thee.
114
[Soul rudderless, unbraced]
Soul rudderless, unbraced,The Body's friend and guest,
Whither away today?
Unsuppled, pale, discased,
Dumb to thy wonted jest.
| The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti | |