The Works of Dante Gabriel Rossetti :: :: University of Virginia Library

Never was joy or good that did not soothe
And beget glorying,
Neither a glorying without perfect love.
Wherefore, if one would compass of a truth
The flight of his soul's wing,
To bear a loving heart must him behove.
Since from the flower man still expects the fruit,
And, out of love, that he desireth;
Seeing that by good faith
Alone hath love its comfort and its joy;
For, suffering falsehood, love were at the root
Dead of all worth, which living must aspire;
Nor could it breed desire
If its reward were less than its annoy.

Even such the joy, the triumph, and pleasaunce,
Whose issue honour is,
And grace, and the most delicate teaching sent
To amorous knowledge, its inheritance;
Because Love's properties
Alter not by a true accomplishment;
But it were scarcely well if one should gain
Without much pain so great a blessedness;
He errs, when all things bless,
Whose heart had else been humbled to implore.
He gets not joy who gives no joy again;
Nor can win love whose love hath little scope;
Nor fully can know hope
Who leaves not of the thing most languished for.

455

Wherefore his choice must err immeasurably
Who seeks the image when
He might behold the thing substantial.
I at the noon have seen dark night to be,
Against earth's natural plan,
And what was good to worst abasement fall.
Then be thus much sufficient, lady mine;
If of thy mildness pity may be born,
Count thou my grief outworn,
And turn into sweet joy this bitter ill;
Lest I might change, if left too long to pine:
As one who, journeying, in mid path should stay,
And not pursue his way,
But should go back against his proper will.

Natheless I hope, yea trust, to make an end
Of the beginning made,
Even by this sign—that yet I triumph not.
And if in truth, against my will constrain'd,
To turn my steps essay'd,
No courage have I, neither strength, God wot.
Such is Love's rule, who thus subdueth me
By thy sweet face, lovely and delicate;
Through which I live elate,
But in such longing that I die for love.
Ah! and these words as nothing seem to be:
For love to such a constant fear has chid
My heart that I keep hid
Much more than I have dared to tell thee of.

II
Canzonetta

How he dreams of his Lady

Lady, my wedded thought,
When to thy shape 'tis wrought,
Can think of nothing else
But only of thy grace,
And of those gentle ways
Wherein thy life excels.
For ever, sweet one, dwells
Thine image on my sight,
(Even as it were the gem
Whose name is as thy name)
And fills the sense with light.

Continual ponderings
That brood upon these things
Yield constant agony:
Yea, the same thoughts have crept
About me as I slept.
My spirit looks at me,
And asks, “Is sleep for thee?
Nay, mourner, do not sleep,
But fix thine eyes, for lo!
Love's fulness thou shalt know
By steadfast gaze and deep.”

456

Then, burning, I awake,
Sore tempted to partake
Of dreams that seek thy sight:
Until, being greatly stirr'd,
I turn to where I heard
That whisper in the night;
And there a breath of light
Shines like a silver star.
The same is mine own soul,
Which lures me to the goal
Of dreams that gaze afar.

But now my sleep is lost;
And through this uttermost
Sharp longing for thine eyes
At length it may be said
That I indeed am mad
With love's extremities.
Yet when in such sweet wise
Thou passest and dost smile,
My heart so fondly burns,
That unto sweetness turns
Its bitter pang the while.

Even so Love rends apart
My spirit and my heart,
Lady, in loving thee;
Till when I see thee now,
Life beats within my brow
And would be gone from me.
So hear I ceaselessly,
Love's whisper well fulfill'd—
Even I am he, even so,
Whose flame thy heart doth know:
And while I strive I yield.

The lady was probably called Diamante, Margherita, or some similar name. (Note to Flor. Ed. 1816).

III
Sonnet

Of Wisdom and Foresight

Such wisdom as a little child displays
Were not amiss in certain lords of fame:
For where he fell, thenceforth he shuns the place,
And having suffered blows, he feareth them.
Who knows not this may forfeit all he sways
At length, and find his friends go as they came.
O therefore on the past time turn thy face,
And, if thy will do err, forget the same.
Because repentance brings not back the past:
Better thy will should bend than thy life break:
Who owns not this, by him shall it appear.
And, because even from fools the wise may make
Wisdom, the first should count himself the last,
Since a dog scourged can bid the lion fear.

457

IV
Sonnet

Of Continence in Speech

Whoso abandons peace for war-seeking,
'Tis of all reason he should bear the smart.
Whoso hath evil speech, his medicine
Is silence, lest it seem a hateful art.
To vex the wasps' nest is not a wise thing;
Yet who rebukes his neighbour in good part,
A hundred years shall show his right therein.
Too prone to fear, one wrongs another's heart.
If ye but knew what may be known to me,
Ye would fall sorry sick, nor be thus bold
To cry among your fellows your ill thought.
Wherefore I would that every one of ye
Who thinketh ill, his ill thought should withhold:
If that ye would not hear it, speak it not.