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 |  |
1.
“Sospira questo core
E non so dir perchè.”
E non so dir perchè.”
Shadow, shadow on the wall
Spread thy shelter over me;
Wrap me with a heavy pall,
With the dark that none may see.
Fold thyself around me; come:
Shut out all the troublesome
Noise of life; I would be dumb.
Spread thy shelter over me;
Wrap me with a heavy pall,
With the dark that none may see.
Fold thyself around me; come:
Shut out all the troublesome
Noise of life; I would be dumb.
Shadow thou hast reached my feet,
Rise and cover up my head;
Be my stainless winding sheet,
Buried before I am dead.
Lay thy cool upon my breast:
Once I thought that joy was best,
Now I only care for rest.
Rise and cover up my head;
Be my stainless winding sheet,
Buried before I am dead.
Lay thy cool upon my breast:
Once I thought that joy was best,
Now I only care for rest.
By the grating of my cell
Sings a solitary bird;
Sweeter than the vesper bell,
Sweetest song was ever heard.
Sing upon thy living tree:
Happy echoes answer thee,
Happy songster, sing to me.
Sings a solitary bird;
Sweeter than the vesper bell,
Sweetest song was ever heard.
Sing upon thy living tree:
Happy echoes answer thee,
Happy songster, sing to me.
When my yellow hair was curled
Though men saw and called me fair,
I was weary in the world
Full of vanity and care.
Gold was left behind, curls shorn
When I came here; that same morn
Made a bride no gems adorn.
Though men saw and called me fair,
I was weary in the world
Full of vanity and care.
Gold was left behind, curls shorn
When I came here; that same morn
Made a bride no gems adorn.
Here wrapped in my spotless veil,
Curtained from intruding eyes,
I whom prayers and fasts turn pale
Wait the flush of Paradise.
But the vigil is so long
My heart sickens:—sing thy song,
Blithe bird that canst do no wrong.
Curtained from intruding eyes,
188
Wait the flush of Paradise.
But the vigil is so long
My heart sickens:—sing thy song,
Blithe bird that canst do no wrong.
Sing on, making me forget
Present sorrow and past sin.
Sing a little longer yet:
Soon the matins will begin;
And I must turn back again
To that aching worse than pain
I must bear and not complain.
Present sorrow and past sin.
Sing a little longer yet:
Soon the matins will begin;
And I must turn back again
To that aching worse than pain
I must bear and not complain.
Sing, that in thy song I may
Dream myself once more a child
In the green woods far away
Plucking clematis and wild
Hyacinths, till pleasure grew
Tired, yet so was pleasure too,
Resting with no work to do.
Dream myself once more a child
In the green woods far away
Plucking clematis and wild
Hyacinths, till pleasure grew
Tired, yet so was pleasure too,
Resting with no work to do.
In the thickest of the wood,
I remember, long ago
How a stately oak tree stood,
With a sluggish pool below
Almost shadowed out of sight.
On the waters dark as night,
Water-lilies lay like light.
I remember, long ago
How a stately oak tree stood,
With a sluggish pool below
Almost shadowed out of sight.
On the waters dark as night,
Water-lilies lay like light.
There, while yet a child, I thought
I could live as in a dream,
Secret, neither found nor sought:
Till the lilies on the stream,
Pure as virgin purity,
Would seem scarce too pure for me:—
Ah, but that can never be.
I could live as in a dream,
Secret, neither found nor sought:
Till the lilies on the stream,
Pure as virgin purity,
Would seem scarce too pure for me:—
Ah, but that can never be.
| The Complete Poems of Christina Rossetti | |