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 |  |
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.
75
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
78
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.
| The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti | |