The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti A variorum edition: Edited, with textual notes and introductions, by R. W. Crump |
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Three Moments. |
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 | The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti |  |
Three Moments.
The Child said: “Pretty bird
“Come back and play with me.”
The bird said: “It is in vain,
“For I am free.
“I am free, I will not stay,
“But will fly far away,
“In the woods to sing and play,
“Far away, far away.”
The Child sought her Mother:
“I have lost my bird;” said she
Weeping bitterly:
But the Mother made her answer,
Half sighing pityingly,
Half smiling cheerily:
“Tho' thy bird come nevermore
“Do not weep;
“Find another playfellow
“Child, and keep
“Tears for future pain more deep.”
“Come back and play with me.”
The bird said: “It is in vain,
“For I am free.
“I am free, I will not stay,
“But will fly far away,
“In the woods to sing and play,
“Far away, far away.”
The Child sought her Mother:
“I have lost my bird;” said she
Weeping bitterly:
But the Mother made her answer,
Half sighing pityingly,
Half smiling cheerily:
“Tho' thy bird come nevermore
“Do not weep;
“Find another playfellow
“Child, and keep
“Tears for future pain more deep.”
“Sweet rose do not wither,”
The Girl said.
But a blight had touched its heart
And it drooped its crimson head.
In the morning it had opened
Full of life and bloom,
But the leaves fell one by one
Till the twilight gloom.
One by one the leaves fell
By summer winds blown from their stem;
They fell upon the dewy earth
Which nourished once now tainted them.
Again the young Girl wept
And sought her Mother's ear:
“My rose is dead so full of grace,
“The very rose I meant to place
“In the wreath that I wear.”
“Nay, never weep for such as this;”
The Mother answered her:
“But weave another crown, less fair
“Perhaps, but fitter for thy hair.
“And keep thy tears,” the Mother said:
“For something heavier.”
The Girl said.
But a blight had touched its heart
And it drooped its crimson head.
In the morning it had opened
185
But the leaves fell one by one
Till the twilight gloom.
One by one the leaves fell
By summer winds blown from their stem;
They fell upon the dewy earth
Which nourished once now tainted them.
Again the young Girl wept
And sought her Mother's ear:
“My rose is dead so full of grace,
“The very rose I meant to place
“In the wreath that I wear.”
“Nay, never weep for such as this;”
The Mother answered her:
“But weave another crown, less fair
“Perhaps, but fitter for thy hair.
“And keep thy tears,” the Mother said:
“For something heavier.”
The Woman knelt; but did not pray
Nor weep nor cry; she only said:
“Not this, not this:” and clasped her hands
Against her heart and bowed her head
While the great struggle shook the bed.
“Not this, not this:” tears did not fall:
“Not this:” it was all
She could say; no sobs would come;
The mortal grief was almost dumb.—
At length when it was over, when
She knew it was and would be so,
She cried: “Oh Mother, where are they,
“The tears that used to flow
“So easily? one single drop
“Might save my reason now, or stop
“My heart from breaking. Blessed tears
“Wasted in former years!”
Then the grave Mother made reply:
“Oh Daughter mine be of good cheer,
“Rejoicing thou canst shed no tear.
“Thy pain is almost over now.
“Once more thy heart shall throb with pain,
“But then shall never throb again.
“Oh happy thou who canst not weep,
“Oh happy thou!”
Nor weep nor cry; she only said:
“Not this, not this:” and clasped her hands
Against her heart and bowed her head
While the great struggle shook the bed.
“Not this, not this:” tears did not fall:
“Not this:” it was all
She could say; no sobs would come;
The mortal grief was almost dumb.—
At length when it was over, when
She knew it was and would be so,
She cried: “Oh Mother, where are they,
“The tears that used to flow
“So easily? one single drop
“Might save my reason now, or stop
“My heart from breaking. Blessed tears
“Wasted in former years!”
Then the grave Mother made reply:
“Oh Daughter mine be of good cheer,
“Rejoicing thou canst shed no tear.
186
“Once more thy heart shall throb with pain,
“But then shall never throb again.
“Oh happy thou who canst not weep,
“Oh happy thou!”
| The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti | |