But ye who love tomorrow
Beg or borrow
Today some bitterness of sorrow:
For Patience shows a lustrous face,
In depth of night her noon;
Then to her sun gives place.
LIFE THAT WAS BORN TODAY
Life that was born today
Must make no stay,
But tend to end
As blossom-bloom of May.
O Lord, confirm my root,
Train up my shoot,
To live and give
Harvest of wholesome fruit.
Life that was born to die
Sets heart on high,
And counts and mounts
Steep stages of the sky.
Two things, Lord, I desire
And I require;
Love’s name, and flame
To wrap my soul in fire.
Life that was born to love
Sends heart above
Both cloud and shroud,
And broods a peaceful dove.
Two things I ask of Thee;
Deny not me;
Eyesight and light
Thy Blessed Face to see.
PERFECT LOVE CASTETH OUT FEAR
Lord, give me blessed fear,
And much more blessed love
That fearing I may love Thee here
And be Thy harmless dove:
Until Thou cast out fear,
Until Thou perfect love,
Until Thou end mine exile here
And fetch Thee home Thy dove.
HOPE IS THE COUNTERPOISE OF FEAR
Hope is the counterpoise of fear
While night enthralls us here.
Fear hath a startled eye that holds a tear:
Hope hath an upward glance, for dawn draws near
With sunshine and with cheer.
Fear gazing earthwards spies a bier;
And sets herself to rear
A lamentable tomb where leaves drop sere,
Bleaching to congruous skeletons austere:
Hope chants a funeral hymn most sweet and clear,
And seems true chanticleer
Of resurrection and of all things dear
In the oncoming endless year.
Fear ballasts hope, hope buoys up fear,
And both befit us here.
SUBJECT TO LIKE PASSIONS AS WE ARE
Whoso hath anguish is not dead in sin,
Whoso hath pangs of utterless desire.
Like as in smouldering flax which harbours fire, —
Red heat of conflagration may begin,
Melt that hard heart, burn out the dross within,
Permeate with glory the new man entire,
Crown him with fire, mould for his hands a lyre
Of fiery strings to sound with those who win.
Anguish is anguish, yet potential bliss,
Pangs of desire are birth-throes of delight;
Those citizens felt such who walk in white,
And meet, but no more sunder, with a kiss;
Who fathom still unfathomed mysteries,
And love, adore, rejoice, with all their might.
EXPERIENCE BOWS A SWEET CONTENTED FACE
Experience bows a sweet contented face,
Still setting to her seal that God is true:
Beneath the sun, she knows, is nothing new;
All things that go return with measured pace,
Winds, rivers, man’s still recommencing race: —
While Hope beyond earth’s circle strains her view,
Past sun and moon, and rain and rainbow too,
Enamoured of unseen eternal grace.
Experience saith, “My God doth all things well:”
And for the morrow taketh little care,
Such peace and patience garrison her soul: —
While Hope, who never yet hath eyed the goal,
With arms flung forth, and backward floating hair,
Touches, embraces, hugs the invisible.
CHARITY NEVER FAILETH
Such is Love, it comforts in extremity,
Tho’ a tempest rage around and rage above,
Tempest beyond tempest, far as eye can see:
Such is Love,
That it simply heeds its mourning inward Dove;
Dove which craves contented for a home to be
Set amid the myrtles or an olive grove.
Dove-eyed Love contemplates the Twelve-fruited Tree,
Marks the bowing palms which worship as they move;
Simply sayeth, simply prayeth, “All for me!”
Such is Love.
THE GREATEST OF THESE IS CHARITY
A moon impoverished amid stars curtailed,
A sun of its exuberant lustre shorn,
A transient morning that is scarcely morn,
A lingering night in double dimness veiled. —
Our hands are slackened and our strength has failed:
We born to darkness, wherefore were we born?
No ripening more for olive, grape, or corn:
Faith faints, hope faints, even love himself has paled.
Nay! love lifts up a face like any rose
Flushing and sweet above a thorny stem,
Softly protesting that the way he knows;
And as for faith and hope, will carry them
Safe to the gate of New Jerusalem,
Where light shines full and where the palm-tree blows.
ALL BENEATH THE SUN HASTETH
All beneath the sun hasteth,
All that hath begun wasteth;
Earth-notes change in tune
With the changeful moon,
Which waneth
While earth’s chant complaineth.
Plumbs the deep, Fear descending;
Scales the steep, Hope ascending;
Faith betwixt the twain
Plies both goad and rein,
Half fearing,
All hopeful, day is nearing.
IF THOU BE DEAD, FORGIVE AND THOU SHALT LIVE
If thou be dead, forgive and thou shalt live;
If thou hast sinned, forgive and be forgiven;
God waiteth to be gracious and forgive,
And open heaven.
Set not thy will to die and not to live;
Set not thy face as flint refusing heaven;
Thou fool, set not thy heart on hell: forgive
And be forgiven.
LET PATIENCE HAVE HER PERFECT WORK
Can man rejoice who lives in hourly fear?
Can man make haste who toils beneath a load?
Can man feel rest who has no fixed abode?
All he lays hold of, or can see or hear,
Is passing by, is prompt to disappear,
Is doomed, foredoomed, continueth in no stay:
This day he breathes in is his latter day,
This year of time is this world’s latter year.
Thus in himself is he most miserable:
Out of himself, Lord, lift him up to Thee,
Out of himself and all these worlds that flee;
Hold him in patience underneath the rod,
Anchor his hope beyond life’s ebb and swell,
Perfect his patience in the love of God.
PATIENCE MUST DWELL WITH LOVE, FOR LOVE AND SORROW
Patience must dwell with Love, for Love and Sorrow
Have pitched their tent together here:
Love all alone will build a house tomorrow,
And sorrow not be near.
Today for Love’s sake hope, still hope, in sorrow,
Rest in her shade and hold her dear:
Today she nurses thee; and lo! tomorrow
Love only will be near.
LET EVERYTHING THAT HATH BREATH PRAISE THE LORD
All that we see rejoices in the sunshine,
All that we hear makes merry in the Spring:
God grant us such a mind to be glad after our kind,
And to sing
His praises for everything.
Much that we see must vanish with the sunshine,
Sweet Spring must fail, and fail the choir of Spring:
But Wisdom shall burn on when the lesser lights are gone,
And shall sing
God’s praises evermore for everything.
WHAT IS THE BEGINNING? LOVE. WHAT THE COURSE? LOVE STILL
What is the beginning? Love. What the course? Love still.
What the goal? The goal is Love on the happy hill.
Is there nothing then but Love, search we sky or earth?
There is nothing out of Love hath perpetual worth:
All things flag but only Love, all things fail or flee;
There is nothing left but Love worthy you and me.
LORD, MAKE ME PURE
Lord, make me pure:
Only the pure shall see Thee as Thou art
And shall endure.
Lord, bring me low;
For Thou wert lowly in Thy blessed heart:
Lord, keep me so.
LOVE, TO BE LOVE, MUST WALK THY WAY
Love, to be love, must walk Thy way
And work Thy Will;
Or if Thou say, “Lie still,”
Lie still and pray.
Love, Thine own Bride, with all her might
Will follow Thee,
And till the shadows flee
Keep Thee in sight.
Love will not mar her peaceful face
With cares undue,
Faithless and hopeless too
And out of place.
Love, knowing Thou much more art Love,
Will sun her grief,
And pluck her myrtle-leaf,
And be Thy dove.
Love here hath vast beatitude:
What shall be hers
Where there is no more curse,
But all is good?
LORD, I AM FEEBLE AND OF MEAN ACCOUNT
Lord, I am feeble and of mean account:
Thou Who dost condescend as well as mount,
Stoop Thou Thyself to me
And grant me grace to hear and grace to see.
Lord, if Thou grant me grace to hear and see
Thy very Self Who stoopest thus to me,
I make but slight account
Of aught beside wherein to sink or mount.
TUNE ME, O LORD, INTO ONE HARMONY
Tune me, O Lord, into one harmony
With Thee, one full responsive vibrant chord;
Unto Thy praise all love and melody,
Tune me, O Lord.
Thus need I flee nor death, nor fire, nor sword:
A little while these be, then cease to be,
And sent by Thee not these should be abhorred.
Devil and world, gird me with strength to flee,
To flee the flesh, and arm me with Thy word:
As Thy Heart is to my heart, unto Thee
Tune me, O Lord.
THEY SHALL BE AS WHITE AS SNOW
Whiteness most white. Ah, to be clean again
In mine own sight and God’s most holy sight!
To reach thro’ any flood or fire of pain
Whiteness most white:
To learn to hate the wrong and love the right
Even while I walk thro’ shadows that are vain,
Descending thro’ vain shadows into night.
Lord, not today: yet some day bliss for bane
Give me, for mortal frailty give me might,
Give innocence for guilt, and for my stain
Whiteness most white.
THY LILIES DRINK THE DEW
Thy lilies drink the dew,
Thy lambs the rill, and I will drink them too;
For those in purity
And innocence are types, dear Lord, of Thee.
The fragrant lily flower
Bows and fulfils Thy Will its lifelong hour;
The lamb at rest and play
Fulfils Thy Will in gladness all the day;
They leave tomorrow’s cares
Until the morrow, what it brings it bears.
And I, Lord, would be such;
Not high or great or anxious overmuch,
But pure and temperate,
Earnest to do Thy Will betimes and late,
Fragrant with love and praise
And innocence thro’ all my appointed days;
Thy lily I would be,
Spotless and sweet, Thy lamb to follow Thee.
WHEN I WAS IN TROUBLE I CALLED UPON THE LORD
A burdened heart that bleeds and bears
And hopes and waits in pain,
And faints beneath its fears and cares,
Yet hopes again:
Wilt Thou accept the heart I bring,
O gracious Lord and kind,
To ease it of a torturing sting,
And staunch and bind?
Alas, if Thou wilt none of this,
None else have I to give:
Look Thou upon it as it is,
Accept, relieve.
Or if Thou wilt not yet relieve,
Be not extreme to sift:
Accept a faltering will to give,
Itself Thy gift.
GRANT US SUCH GRACE THAT WE MAY WORK THY WILL
Grant us such grace that we may work Thy Will
And speak Thy words and walk before Thy Face,
Profound and calm, like waters deep and still:
Grant us such grace.
Not hastening and not loitering in our pace
For gloomiest valley or for sultriest hill,
Content and fearless on our downward race.
As rivers seek a sea they cannot fill
But are themselves filled full in its embrace,
Absorbed, at rest, each river and each rill:
Grant us such grace.
WHO HATH DESPISED THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS?
As violets so be I recluse and sweet,
Cheerful as daisies unaccounted rare,
Still sunward-gazing from a lowly seat,
Still sweetening wintry air.
While half-awakened Spring lags incomplete,
While lofty forest trees tower bleak and bare,
Daisies and violets own remotest heat
And bloom and make them fair.
DO THIS, AND HE DOETH IT
Content to come, content to go,
Content to wrestle or to race,
Content to know or not to know,
Each in his place;
Lord, grant us grace to love Thee so
That glad of heart and glad of face
At last we may sit, high or low,
Each in his place;
Where pleasures flow as rivers flow,
And loss has left no barren trace,
And all that are, are perfect so,
Each in his place.
THAT NO MAN TAKE THY CROWN
Be faithful unto death. Christ proffers thee
Crown of a life that draws immortal breath:
To thee He saith, yea, and He saith to me,
“Be faithful unto death.”
To every living soul that same He saith,
“Be faithful”: — whatsoever else we be,
Let us be faithful, challenging His faith.
Tho’ trouble storm around us like the sea,
Tho’ hell surge up to scare us and to scathe,
Tho’ heaven and earth betake themselves to flee,
“Be faithful unto death.”
YE ARE COME UNTO MOUNT SION
Fear, Faith, and Hope have sent their hearts above:
Prudence, Obedience, and Humility
Climb at their call, all scaling heaven toward Love.
Fear hath least grace but great expediency;
Faith and Humility show grave and strong;
Prudence and Hope mount balanced equally.
Obedience marches marshalling their throng,
Goes first, goes last, to left hand or to right;
By day they rest not, nor they rest by night:
While Love within them, with them, over them,
Weans them and woos them from the dark to light.
Each plies for staff not reed with broken stem,
But olive branch in pledge of patient peace;
Till Love being theirs in New Jerusalem,
Transfigure them to Love, and so they cease.
Love is the sole beatitude above:
All other graces, to their vast increase
Of glory, look on Love and mirror Love.
SIT DOWN IN THE LOWEST ROOM
Lord, give me grace
To take the lowest place;
Nor even desire,
Unless it be Thy Will, to go up higher.
Except by grace,
I fail of lowest place;
Except desire
Sit low, it aims awry to go up higher.
LORD, IT IS GOOD FOR US TO BE HERE
Grant us, O Lord, that patience and that faith:
Faith’s patience imperturbable in Thee,
Hope’s patience till the long-drawn shadows flee,
Love’s patience unresentful of all scathe.
Verily we need patience breath by breath;
Patience while faith holds up her glass to see,
While hope toils yoked in fear’s copartnery,
And love goes softly on the way to death.
Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Christina Rossetti Page 40