Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Christina Rossetti

by Christina Rossetti

  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. —
/>   Yea, Lord, I will serve them by Thy grace;

  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?
r />   Have I not wrestled in mine agony?

  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