He still the Same regards us, and still we
Mount toward Him in old love’s accustomed flame.
We know Thy wounded Hands: and Thou dost know
Our praying hands, our hands that clasp and cling
To hold Thee fast and not to let Thee go.
All else be new then, Lord, as Thou hast said:
Since it is Thou, we dare not be afraid,
Our King of old and still our Self-same King.
KING OF KINGS AND LORD OF LORDS
Is this that Name as ointment poured forth
For which the virgins love Thee; King of kings
And Lord of lords? All Seraphs clad in wings;
All Cherubs and all Wheels which south and north,
Which east and west turn not in going forth;
All many-semblanced ordered Spirits, as rings
Of rainbow in unwonted fashionings,
Might answer, Yes. But we from south and north,
From east and west, a feeble folk who came
By desert ways in quest of land unseen,
A promised land of pasture ever green
And ever springing ever singing wave,
Know best Thy Name of Jesus: Blessed Name,
Man’s life and resurrection from the grave.
THY NAME, O CHRIST, AS INCENSE STREAMING FORTH
Thy Name, O Christ, as incense streaming forth
Sweetens our names before God’s Holy Face;
Luring us from the south and from the north
Unto the sacred place.
In Thee God’s promise is Amen and Yea.
What art Thou to us? Prize of every lot,
Shepherd and Door, our Life and Truth and Way: —
Nay, Lord, what art Thou not?
THE GOOD SHEPHERD
O Shepherd with the bleeding Feet,
Good Shepherd with the pleading Voice,
What seekest Thou from hill to hill?
Sweet were the valley pastures, sweet
The sound of flocks that bleat their joys,
And eat and drink at will.
Is one worth seeking, when Thou hast of Thine
Ninety and nine? —
How should I stay My bleeding Feet,
How should I hush My pleading Voice?
I Who chose death and clomb a hill,
Accounting gall and wormwood sweet,
That hundredfold might bud My joys
For love’s sake and good will.
I seek My one, for all there bide of Mine
Ninety and nine.
REJOICE WITH ME
Little Lamb, who lost thee? —
I myself, none other. —
Little Lamb, who found thee? —
Jesus, Shepherd, Brother.
Ah, Lord, what I cost Thee!
Canst Thou still desire? —
Still Mine arms surround thee,
Still I lift thee higher,
Draw thee nigher.
SHALL NOT THE JUDGE OF ALL THE EARTH DO RIGHT?
Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?
Yea, Lord, altho’ Thou say me nay:
Shall not His Will be to me life and light?
Yea, Lord, altho’ Thou slay.
Yet, Lord, remembering turn and sift and see,
Remember tho’ Thou sift me thro’,
Remember my desire, remember me,
Remember, Lord, and do.
ME AND MY GIFT: KIND LORD, BEHOLD
Me and my gift: kind Lord, behold,
Be not extreme to test or sift;
Thy Love can turn to fire and gold
Me and my gift.
Myself and mine to Thee I lift:
Gather us to Thee from the cold
Dead outer world where dead things drift.
If much were mine, then manifold
Should be the offering of my thrift:
I am but poor, yet love makes bold
Me and my gift.
HE CANNOT DENY HIMSELF
Love still is Love, and doeth all things well,
Whether He show me heaven or hell
Or earth in her decay
Passing away
On a day.
Love still is Love, tho’ He should say, “Depart,”
And break my incorrigible heart,
And set me out of sight
Widowed of light
In the night.
Love still is Love, is Love, if He should say,
“Come,” on that uttermost dread day;
“Come,” unto very me,
“Come where I be,
Come and see.”
Love still is Love, whatever comes to pass:
O Only Love, make me Thy glass,
Thy pleasure to fulfil
By loving still
Come what will.
SLAIN FROM THE FOUNDATION OF THE WORLD
Slain for man, slain for me, O Lamb of God, look down;
Loving to the end look down, behold and see:
Turn Thine Eyes of pity, turn not on us Thy frown,
O Lamb of God, slain for man, slain for me.
Mark the wrestling, mark the race for indeed a crown;
Mark our chariots how we drive them heavily;
Mark the foe upon our track blasting thundering down,
O Lamb of God, slain for man, slain for me.
Set as a Cloudy Pillar against them Thy frown,
Thy Face of Light toward us gracious utterly;
Help granting, hope granting, until Thou grant a crown,
O Lamb of God, slain for man, slain for me.
LORD JESU, THOU ART SWEETNESS TO MY SOUL
Lord Jesu, Thou art sweetness to my soul:
I to myself am bitterness:
Regard my fainting struggle toward the goal,
Regard my manifold distress,
O Sweet Jesu.
Thou art Thyself my goal, O Lord my King:
Stretch forth Thy hand to save my soul:
What matters more or less of journeying?
While I touch Thee I touch my goal,
O Sweet Jesu.
I, LORD, THY FOOLISH SINNER LOW AND SMALL
I, Lord, Thy foolish sinner low and small,
Lack all.
His heart too high was set
Who asked, What lack I yet?
Woe’s me at my most woeful pass!
I, Lord, who scarcely dare adore,
Weep sore:
Steeped in this rotten world I fear to rot.
Alas! what lack I not?
Alas! alas for me! alas
More and yet more! —
Nay, stand up on thy feet, betaking thee
To Me.
Bring fear; but much more bring
Hope to thy patient King:
What, is My pleasure in thy death?
I loved that youth who little knew
The true
Width of his want, yet worshipped with goodwill:
So love I thee, and still
Prolong thy day of grace and breath.
Rise up and do. —
Lord, let me know mine end, and certify
When I
Shall die and have to stand
Helpless on Either Hand,
Cut off, cut off, my day of grace. —
Not so: for what is that to thee?
I see
The measure and the number of thy day:
Keep patience, tho’ I slay;
Keep patience till thou see My Face.
Follow thou Me.
BECAUSE HE FIRST LOVED US
I was hungry, and Thou feddest me;
Yea, Thou gavest drink to slake my thirst:
O Lord, what love gift can I offer Thee
Who hast loved me first? —
Feed My hungry brethren for My sake;
Give them drink, for love of them and Me:
Love them as I loved thee, when Bread I brake
In pure love of thee. —
Love Thee, seek Thee, in them; wait and pray:
Yet would I love Thyself, Lord, face to face,
Heart to heart, one day. —
Let today fulfil its daily task,
Fill thy heart and hand to them and Me:
Tomorrow thou shalt ask, and shalt not ask
Half I keep for thee.
LORD, HAST THOU SO LOVED US, AND WILL NOT WE
Lord, hast Thou so loved us, and will not we
Love Thee with heart and mind and strength and soul,
Desiring Thee beyond our glorious goal,
Beyond the heaven of heavens desiring Thee?
Each saint, all saints cry out: Yea me, yea me,
Thou hast desired beyond an aureole,
Beyond Thy many Crowns, beyond the whole
Ninety and nine unwandering family.
Souls in green pastures of the watered land,
Faint pilgrim souls wayfaring thro’ the sand,
Abide with Thee and in Thee are at rest:
Yet evermore, kind Lord, renew Thy quest
After new wanderers; such as once Thy Hand
Gathered, Thy Shoulders bore, Thy Heart caressed.
AS THE DOVE WHICH FOUND NO REST
As the dove which found no rest
For the sole of her foot, flew back
To the ark her only nest
And found safety there;
Because Noah put forth his hand,
Drew her in from ruin and wrack,
And was more to her than the land
And the air:
So my spirit, like that dove,
Fleeth away to an ark
Where dwelleth a Heart of Love,
A Hand pierced to save,
Tho’ the sun and the moon should fail,
Tho’ the stars drop into the dark,
And my body lay itself pale
In a grave.
THOU ART FAIRER THAN THE CHILDREN OF MEN
A rose, a lily, and the Face of Christ
Have all our hearts sufficed:
For He is Rose of Sharon nobly born,
Our Rose without a thorn;
And He is Lily of the Valley, He
Most sweet in purity.
But when we come to name Him as He is,
Godhead, Perfection, Bliss,
All tongues fall silent, while pure hearts alone
Complete their orison.
AS THE APPLE TREE AMONG THE TREES OF THE WOOD
As one red rose in a garden where all other roses are white
Blossoms alone in its glory, crowned all alone
In a solitude of own sweetness and fragrance of own delight,
With loveliness not another’s and thorns its own;
As one ruddy sun amid million orbs comely and colourless,
Among all others, above all others is known;
As it were alone in the garden, alone in the heavenly place,
Chief and centre of all, in fellowship yet alone.
NONE OTHER LAMB, NONE OTHER NAME
None other Lamb, none other Name,
None other Hope in heaven or earth or sea,
None other Hiding-place from guilt and shame,
None beside Thee.
My faith burns low, my hope burns low,
Only my heart’s desire cries out in me
By the deep thunder of its want and woe,
Cries out to Thee.
Lord, Thou art Life tho’ I be dead,
Love’s Fire Thou art however cold I be:
Nor heaven have I, nor place to lay my head,
Nor home, but Thee.
THY FRIEND AND THY FATHER’S FRIEND FORGET NOT
Friends, I commend to you the narrow way:
Not because I, please God, will walk therein,
But rather for the Love Feast of that day,
The exceeding prize which whoso will may win.
Earth is half spent and rotting at the core,
Here hollow death’s heads mock us with a grin,
Here heartiest laughter leaves us tired and sore.
Men heap up pleasures and enlarge desire,
Outlive desire, and famished evermore
Consume themselves within the undying fire.
Yet not for this God made us: not for this
Christ sought us far and near to draw us nigher,
Sought us and found and paid our penalties.
If one could answer “Nay” to God’s command,
Who shall say “Nay” when Christ pleads all He is
For us, and holds us with a wounded Hand?
SURELY HE HATH BORNE OUR GRIEFS
Christ’s Heart was wrung for me, if mine is sore;
And if my feet are weary, His have bled;
He had no place wherein to lay His Head;
If I am burdened, He was burdened more.
The cup I drink, He drank of long before;
He felt the unuttered anguish which I dread;
He hungered Who the hungry thousands fed,
And thirsted Who the world’s refreshment bore.
If grief be such a looking-glass as shows
Christ’s Face and man’s in some sort made alike,
Then grief is pleasure with a subtle taste:
Wherefore should any fret or faint or haste?
Grief is not grievous to a soul that knows
Christ comes, — and listens for that hour to strike.
THEY TOIL NOT, NEITHER DO THEY SPIN
Clother of the lily, Feeder of the sparrow,
Father of the fatherless, dear Lord,
Tho’ Thou set me as a mark against Thine arrow,
As a prey unto Thy sword,
As a ploughed up field beneath Thy harrow,
As a captive in Thy cord,
Let that cord be love; and some day make my narrow
Hallowed bed according to Thy Word.
DARKNESS AND LIGHT ARE BOTH ALIKE TO THEE
Darkness and light are both alike to Thee:
Therefore to Thee I lift my darkened face;
Upward I look with eyes that fail to see,
Athirst for future light and present grace.
I trust the Hand of Love I scarcely trace.
With breath that fails I cry, Remember me:
Add breath to breath, so I may run my race
That where Thou art there may Thy servant be.
For Thou art gulf and fountain of my love,
I unreturning torrent to Thy sea,
Yea, Thou the measureless ocean for my rill:
Seeking I find, and finding seek Thee still:
And oh! that I had wings as hath a dove,
Then would I flee away to rest with Thee.
AND NOW WHY TARRIEST THOU?
Lord, grant us grace to mount by steps of grace
From grace to grace nearer, my God, to Thee;
Not tarrying for tomorrow,
Lest we lie down in sorrow
And never see
Unveiled Thy Face.
Life is a vapour vanishing in haste;
Life is a day whose sun grows pale to set;
Life is a stint and sorrow,
One day and not the morrow;
Precious, while yet
It runs to waste.
Lord, strengthen us; lest fainting by the way
We come not to Thee, we who come from far;
Lord, bring us to that morrow
Which makes an end of sorrow,
Where all saints are
On holyday.
Where all the saints rest who have heard Thy call,
Have risen and striven and now rejoice in rest:
Call us too home from sorrow
To rest in Thee tomorrow;
In Thee our Best,
In Thee our All.
HAVE I NOT STRIVEN, MY GOD, AND WATCHED AND PRAYED?
Have I not striven, my God, and watched and prayed?
Wherefore still turn Thy Face of Grace from me?
Is Thine Arm shortened that Thou canst not aid?
Thy silence breaks my heart: speak tho’ to upbraid,
For Thy rebuke yet bids us follow Thee.
I grope and grasp not; gaze, but cannot see.
When out of sight and reach my bed is made,
And piteous men and women cease to blame
Whispering and wistful of my gain or loss;
Thou Who for my sake once didst feel the Cross,
Lord, wilt Thou turn and look upon me then,
And in Thy Glory bring to nought my shame,
Confessing me to angels and to men?
GOD IS OUR HOPE AND STRENGTH
Tempest and terror below; but Christ the Almighty above.
Tho’ the depth of the deep overflow, tho’ fire run along on the ground,
Tho’ all billows and flames make a noise, — and where is an Ark for the dove? —
Tho’ sorrows rejoice against joys, and death and destruction abound:
Yet Jesus abolisheth death, and Jesus Who loves us we love;
His dead are renewed with a breath, His lost are the sought and the found.
Thy wanderers call and recall, Thy dead men lift out of the ground;
O Jesus, Who lovest us all, stoop low from Thy Glory above:
Where sin hath abounded make grace to abound and to superabound,
Till we gaze on Thee face unto Face, and respond to Thee love unto Love.
DAY AND NIGHT THE ACCUSER MAKES NO PAUSE
Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Christina Rossetti Page 35