Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Christina Rossetti

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Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Christina Rossetti Page 49

by Christina Rossetti


  Bowing beneath the chastening rod,

  Lost to the world, but found of God.

  Some prayed for friend, for child, for wife;

  Some prayed for faith; some prayed for life;

  While some, proud even in death, hope gone,

  Steadfast and still stood looking on.

  “Death, death! oh let us fly from death,

  “Where’er we go it followeth.

  “All these are dead; and we alone

  “Remain to weep for what is gone.

  “What is this thing, thus hurriedly

  “To pass into eternity?

  “To leave the earth so full of mirth?

  “To lose the profit of our birth?

  “To die and be no more? to cease,

  “Having numbness that is not peace?

  “Let us go hence: and even if thus

  “Death everywhere must go with us,

  “Let us not see the change, but see

  “Those who have been or still shall be.”

  He sighed, and they went on together.

  Beneath their feet did the grass wither;

  Across the heaven, high overhead,

  Dark misty clouds floated and fled;

  And in their bosom was the thunder;

  And angry lightnings flashed out under,

  Forkèd and red and menacing;

  Far off the wind was muttering;

  It seemed to tell, not understood,

  Strange secrets to the listening wood.

  Upon its wings it bore the scent

  Of blood of a great armament;

  Then saw they how on either side

  Fields were downtrodden far and wide;

  That morning at the break of day,

  Two nations had gone forth to slay.

  As a man soweth, so he reaps.

  The field was full of bleeding heaps;

  Ghastly corpses of men and horses

  That met death at a thousand sources;

  Cold limbs and putrifying flesh;

  Long love-locks clotted to a mesh

  That stifled; stiffened mouths beneath

  Staring eyes that had looked on death.

  But these were dead; these felt no more

  The anguish of the wounds they bore.

  Behold; they shall not sigh again,

  Nor justly fear, nor hope in vain.

  What if none wept above them; is

  The sleeper less at rest for this?

  Is not the young child’s slumber sweet

  When no man watcheth over it?

  These had deep calm: but all around

  There was a deadly smothered sound,

  The choking cry of agony

  From wounded men who could not die.

  Who watched the black wing of the raven

  Rise like a cloud ‘twixt them and heaven,

  And in the distance, flying fast,

  Beheld the eagle come at last.

  She knelt down in her agony:

  “O Lord, it is enough;” said she:

  “My heart’s prayer putteth me to shame;

  “Let me return to whence I came.

  “Thou, Who for love’s sake didst reprove,

  “Forgive me, for the sake of love.”

  NEW ENIGMAS

  Name any gentleman you spy,

  And there’s a chance that he is I;

  Go out to angle, and you may

  Catch me on a propitious day:

  Booted and spurred, their journey ended,

  The weary are by me befriended:

  If roasted meat should be your wish,

  I am more needful than a dish:

  I am acknowledgedly poor:

  Yet my resources are no fewer

  Than all the trades; there is not one

  But I profess, beneath the sun:

  I bear a part in many a game;

  My worth may change, I am the same.

  Sometimes, by you expelled, I roam

  Forth from the sanctuary of home.

  CHARADES

  My first is no proof of my second,

  Though my second’s a proof of my first:

  If I were my whole I should tell you

  Quite freely my best and my worst.

  One clue more: if you fail to discover

  My meaning, you’re blind as a mole;

  But if you will frankly confess it,

  You show yourself clearly my whole.

  THE ROSE

  O Rose, thou flower of flowers, thou fragrant wonder,

  Who shall describe thee in thy ruddy prime;

  Thy perfect fulness in the summer time;

  When the pale leaves blushingly part asunder

  And show the warm red heart lies glowing under?

  Thou shouldst bloom surely in some sunny clime,

  Untouched by blights and chilly Winter’s rime,

  Where lightnings never flash, nor peals the thunder.

  And yet in happier spheres they cannot need thee

  So much as we do with our weight of woe;

  Perhaps they would not tend, perhaps not heed thee,

  And thou wouldst lonely and neglected grow;

  And He Who is All-Wise, He hath decreed thee

  To gladden earth and cheer all hearts below.

  THE TREES’ COUNSELING

  I was strolling sorrowfully

  Thro’ the corn fields and the meadows;

  The stream sounded melancholy,

  And I walked among the shadows;

  While the ancient forest trees

  Talked together in the breeze;

  In the breeze that waved and blew them,

  With a strange weird rustle thro’ them.

  Said the oak unto the others

  In a leafy voice and pleasant:

  “Here we all are equal brothers,

  “Here we have nor lord nor peasant.

  “Summer, Autumn, Winter, Spring,

  “Pass in happy following.

  “Little winds may whistle by us,

  “Little birds may overfly us;

  “But the sun still waits in heaven

  “To look down on us in splendour;

  “When he goes the moon is given,

  “Full of rays that he doth lend her:

  “And tho’ sometimes in the night

  “Mists may hide her from our sight,

  “She comes out in the calm weather,

  “With the glorious stars together.”

  From the fruitage, from the blossom,

  From the trees came no denying;

  Then my heart said in my bosom:

  “Wherefore art thou sad and sighing?

  “Learn contentment from this wood

  “That proclaimeth all states good;

  “Go not from it as it found thee;

  “Turn thyself and gaze around thee.”

  And I turned: behold the shading

  But showed forth the light more clearly;

  The wild bees were honey-lading;

  The stream sounded hushing merely,

  And the wind not murmuring

  Seemed, but gently whispering:

  “Get thee patience; and thy spirit

  “Shall discern in all things merit.”

  BEHOLD, I STAND AT THE DOOR AND KNOCK

  Who standeth at the gate? — A woman old,

  A widow from the husband of her love:

  “O Lady, stay; this wind is piercing cold,

  Oh look at the keen frosty moon above;

  I have no home, am hungry, feeble, poor:” —

  “I’m really very sorry, but I can

  Do nothing for you, there’s the clergyman,” —

  The Lady said, and shivering closed the door.

  Who standeth at the gate? — Way-worn and pale,

  A grey-haired man asks charity again:

  “Kind Lady, I have journeyed far, and fail

  Thro’ weariness; for I have begged in vain

  S
ome shelter, and can find no lodging-place:” —

  She answered: “There’s the Workhouse very near,

  Go, for they’ll certainly receive you there:” —

  Then shut the door against his pleading face.

  Who standeth at the gate? — a stunted child,

  Her sunk eyes sharpened with precocious care:

  “O Lady, save me from a home defiled,

  From shameful sights and sounds that taint the air.

  Take pity on me, teach me something good;” —

  “For shame, why don’t you work instead of cry? —

  I keep no young impostors here, not I;” —

  She slammed the door, indignant where she stood.

  Who standeth at the gate, and will be heard? —

  Arise, O woman, from thy comforts now:

  Go forth again to speak the careless word,

  The cruel word unjust, with hardened brow.

  But Who is This, That standeth not to pray

  As once, but terrible to judge thy sin?

  This, Whom thou wouldst not succour, nor take in,

  Nor teach, but leave to perish by the way? —

  “Thou didst it not unto the least of these,

  And in them hast not done it unto Me.

  Thou wast as a princess, rich and at ease,

  Now sit in dust and howl for poverty.

  Three times I stood beseeching at thy gate,

  Three times I came to bless thy soul and save:

  But now I come to judge for what I gave,

  And now at length thy sorrow is too late.”

  GIANNI MY FRIEND AND I BOTH STROVE TO EXCEL

  Gianni my friend and I both strove to excel,

  But, missing better, settled down in well.

  Both fail, indeed; but not alike we fail —

  My forte being Venus’ face, and his a dragon’s tail.

  THE OFFERING OF THE NEW LAW, THE ONE OBLATION ONCE OFFERED

  The Offering of the New Law, the One Oblation once Offered.

  “Sacrifice and Offering Thou wouldest not, but a BODY hast Thou prepared Me.”

  Once I thought to sit so high

  In the Palace of the sky;

  Now I thank God for His Grace,

  If I may fill the lowest place.

  Once I thought to scale so soon

  Heights above the changing moon;

  Now I thank God for delay —

  Today, it yet is called today.

  While I stumble, halt and blind,

  Lo! He waiteth to be kind;

  Bless me soon, or bless me slow,

  Except He bless, I let not go.

  Once for earth I laid my plan,

  Once I leaned on strength of man,

  When my hope was swept aside,

  I stayed my broken heart on pride:

  Broken reed hath pierced my hand;

  Fell my house I built on sand;

  Roofless, wounded, maimed by sin,

  Fightings without, and fears within:

  Yet, a tree, He feeds my root;

  Yet, a branch, He prunes for fruit;

  Yet, a sheep, these eves and morns,

  He seeks for me among the thorns.

  With Thine Image stamped of old,

  Find Thy coin more choice than gold;

  Known to Thee by name, recall

  To Thee Thy home-sick prodigal.

  Sacrifice and Offering

  None there is that I can bring;

  None, save what is Thine alone:

  I bring Thee, Lord, but of Thine Own —

  Broken Body, Blood Outpoured,

  These I bring, my God, my Lord;

  Wine of Life, and Living Bread,

  With these for me Thy Board is spread.

  THE ELEVENTH HOUR

  Faint and worn and aged

  One stands knocking at a gate,

  Tho’ no light shines in the casement,

  Knocking tho’ so late.

  It has struck eleven

  In the courts of Heaven,

  Yet he still doth knock and wait.

  While no answer cometh

  From the heavenly hill,

  Blessed Angels wonder

  At his earnest will.

  Hope and fear but quicken

  While the shadows thicken;

  He is knocking knocking still.

  Grim the gate unopened

  Stands with bar and lock,

  Yet within the unseen Porter

  Hearkens to the knock.

  Doing and undoing,

  Faint and yet pursuing,

  This man’s feet are on the Rock.

  With a cry unceasing

  Knocketh prayeth he: —

  “Lord, have mercy on me

  “When I cry to Thee.” —

  With a knock unceasing

  And a cry increasing: —

  “O my Lord, remember me.”

  Still the Porter standeth,

  Love-constrained He standeth near,

  While the cry increaseth

  Of that love and fear: —

  “Jesus look upon me;

  “Christ hast Thou foregone me?

  “If I must, I perish here.” —

  Faint the knocking ceases,

  Faint the cry and call:

  Is he lost indeed forever,

  Shut without the wall? —

  Mighty Arms surround him,

  Arms that sought and found him,

  Held withheld and bore thro’ all. —

  O celestial mansion

  Open wide the door:

  Crown and robes of whiteness,

  Stone inscribed before,

  Flocking Angels bear them;

  Stretch thy hand and wear them,

  Sit thou down for evermore.

  I KNOW YOU NOT

  O Christ the Vine with living Fruit,

  The twelvefold fruited Tree of Life,

  The Balm in Gilead after strife,

  The valley Lily and the Rose:

  Stronger than Lebanon, Thou Root,

  Sweeter than clustered grapes, Thou Vine;

  Oh Best, Thou Vineyard of red Wine

  Keeping Thy best Wine till the close.

  Pearl of great price Thyself alone

  And ruddier than the ruby Thou,

  Most precious lightening Jasper Stone,

  Head of the corner spurned before;

  Fair Gate of pearl, Thyself the Door,

  Clear golden Street, Thyself the Way,

  By Thee we journey toward Thee now

  Thro’ Thee shall enter Heaven one day.

  I thirst for Thee, full Fount and Flood,

  My heart calls Thine as deep to deep:

  Dost Thou forget Thy sweat and pain,

  Thy provocation on the Cross?

  Heart pierced for me, vouchsafe to keep

  The purchase of Thy lavished Blood;

  The gain is Thine Lord if I gain,

  Or if I lose Thine Own the loss.

  At midnight, saith the parable,

  A cry was made, the Bridegroom came:

  Those who were ready entered in;

  The rest shut out in death and shame

  Strove all too late that feast to win

  Their die was cast and fixed their lot,

  A gulph divided heaven from hell,

  The Bridegroom said, ‘I know you not.’

  But Who is This That shuts the door

  And saith ‘I know you not’ to them?

  I see the wounded Hands and Side,

  The Brow thorn-tortured long ago:

  Yea, This Who grieved and bled and died,

  This Same is He Who must condemn;

  He called, but they refused to know,

  So now He hears their cry no more.

  A CHRISTMAS CAROL

  Before the paling of the stars

  Before the winter morn

  Before the earliest cockcrow

  Jesus Christ was born:

>   Born in a stable

  Cradled in a manger,

  In the world His Hands had made

  Born a Stranger.

  Priest and King lay fast asleep

  In Jerusalem,

  Young and Old lay fast asleep

  In crowded Bethlehem:

  Saint and Angel Ox and Ass

  Kept a watch together

  Before the Christmas daybreak

  In the winter weather.

  Jesus on His Mother’s breast

  In the stable cold,

  Spotless Lamb of God was He

  Shepherd of the Fold:

  Let us kneel with Mary Maid

  With Joseph bent and hoary

  With Saint and Angel Ox and Ass

  To hail the King of Glory.

  EASTER EVEN

  There is nothing more that they can do

  For all their rage and boast;

  Caiaphas with his blaspheming crew,

  Herod with his host,

  Pontius Pilate in his judgment hall

  Judging their Judge and his,

  Or he who led them all and passed them all

  Arch-Judas with his kiss.

  The sepulchre made sure with ponderous stone

  Seal that same stone, O priest;

  It may be thou shalt block the Holy One

  From rising in the east:

  Set a watch about the sepulchre

  To watch on pain of death;

  They must hold fast the stone if One should stir

  And shake it from beneath.

  God Almighty He can break a seal,

  And roll away a stone;

  Can grind the proud in dust who would not kneel,

  And crush the mighty one.

  There is nothing more that they can do

  For all their passionate care,

  Those who sit in dust, the blessed few,

  And weep and rend their hair.

  Peter, Thomas, Mary Magdalen,

  The Virgin unreproved,

  Joseph with Nicodemus foremost men,

 

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