My whole heart shall sing praises for your sake
And find its own fulfilment in your bliss.
IN RESURRECTION IS IT AWFULLER
In resurrection is it awfuller
That rising of the All or of the Each:
Of all kins of all nations of all speech,
Or one by one of him and him and her?
When dust reanimate begins to stir
Here, there, beyond, beyond, reach beyond reach;
While every wave disgorges on its beach
Alive or dead-in-life some seafarer.
In resurrection, on the day of days,
That day of mourning throughout all the earth,
In resurrection may we meet again:
No more with stricken hearts to part in twain;
As once in sorrow one, now one in mirth,
One in our resurrection songs of praise.
I LOVE YOU AND YOU KNOW IT — THIS AT LEAST
I love you and you know it — this at least,
This comfort is mine own in all my pain:
You know it and can never doubt again,
And love’s mere self is a continual feast.
Not oath of mine nor blessing-word of priest
Could make my love more certain or more plain: —
Life as a rolling moon doth wax and wane
O weary moon, still rounding, still decreased!
Life wanes: and when love folds his wings above
Tired joy, and less we feel his conscious pulse,
Let us go fall asleep, dear Friend, in peace; —
A little while, and age and sorrow cease;
A little while, and love reborn annuls
Loss and decay and death — and all is love.
VALENTINES FROM C.G.R
FAIRER THAN YOUNGER BEAUTIES, MORE BELOVED
Fairer than younger beauties, more beloved
Than many a wife, —
By stress of Time’s vicissitudes unmoved
From settled calm of life, —
Endearing rectitude to those who watch
The verdict of your face,
Raising & making gracious those who catch
A semblance of your grace: —
With kindly lips of welcome, & with pleased
Propitious eyes benign,
Accept a kiss of homage from your least
Last Valentine.
A VALENTINE, 1877
Own Mother dear,
We all rejoicing here
Wait for each other,
Daughter for Mother,
Sister for Brother,
Till each dear face appear
Transfigured by Love’s flame
Yet still the same, —
The same yet new, —
My face to you,
Your face to me,
Made lovelier by Love’s flame
But still the same;
Most dear to see
In halo of Love’s flame,
Because the same.
A VALENTINE, 1878
Blessed Dear & heart’s Delight,
Companion, Friend, & Mother mine
Round whom my fears & love entwine, —
With whom I hope to stand & sing
Where Angels form the outer ring
Round singing Saints who, clad in white,
Know no more of day or night
Or death or any changeful thing,
Or anything that is not love,
Human love & love Divine, —
Bid me to that tryst above,
Bless your Valentine.
A VALENTINE, 1879
Mother mine
Whom every year
Doth endear,
Before sweet Spring
(That sweetest thing
Brimfull of bliss)
Sets all the throng
Of birds a-wooing
Billing & cooing, —
Your Valentine
Sings you a song,
Gives you a kiss.
A VALENTINE, 1880
More shower than shine
Brings sweet St. Valentine;
Warm shine, warm shower,
Bring up sweet flower on flower:
Thro’ shower & shine
Loves you your Valentine,
Thro’ shine, thro’ shower,
Thro’ summer’s flush, thro’ Autumn’s fading hour.
ST. VALENTINE’S DAY, 1881
Too cold almost for hope of Spring
Or firstfruits from the realm of flowers,
Your dauntless Valentine, I bring
One sprig of love, and sing
“Love has no Winter hours”. —
If even in this world love is love
(This wintry world which felt the Fall),
What must it be in Heaven above
Where love to great and small
Is all in all?
A VALENTINE 1882
My blessed Mother dozing in her chair
On Christmas Day seemed an embodied Love,
A comfortable Love with soft brown hair
Softened and silvered to a tint of dove,
A better sort of Venus with an air
Angelical from thoughts that dwell above,
A wiser Pallas in whose body fair
Enshrined a blessed soul looks out thereof.
Winter brought Holly then; now Spring has brought
Paler and frailer Snowdrops shivering;
And I have brought a simple humble thought
— I her devoted duteous Valentine — ,
A lifelong thought which thrills this song I sing,
A lifelong love to this dear Saint of mine.
FEBRUARY 14. 1883
A world of change & loss, a world of death,
Of heart & eyes that fail, of laboring breath,
Of pains to bear & painful deeds to do: —
Nevertheless a world of life to come
And love; where you’re at home, while in our home
Your Valentine rejoices having you.
A VALENTINE, 1884
Another year of joy & grief,
Another year of hope & fear:
O Mother, is life long or brief?
We hasten while we linger here.
But since we linger, love me still
And bless me still, O Mother mine,
While hand in hand we scale life’s hill,
You Guide, & I your Valentine.
ST. VALENTINE’S DAY, 1885
All the Robin Redbreasts
Have lived the winter thro’,
Jenny Wrens have pecked their fill
And found a work to do,
Families of Sparrows
Have weathered wind & storm
With Rabbit on the stony hill
And Hare upon her form.
You & I, my Mother,
Have lived the winter thro’,
And still we play our daily parts
And still find work to do:
And still the cornfields flourish,
The olive & the vine,
And still you reign my Queen of Hearts
And I’m your Valentine.
ST. VALENTINE’S DAY, 1886
Winter’s latest snowflake is the snowdrop flower,
Yellow crocus kindles the first flame of the Spring,
At that time appointed, at that day and hour
When life reawakens and hope in everything.
Such a tender snowflake in the wintry weather,
Such a feeble flamelet for chilled St. Valentine, —
But blest be any weather which finds us still together,
My pleasure and my treasure O blessed Mother mine.
AH WELLADAY AND WHEREFORE AM I HERE?
Ah welladay and wherefore am I here?
I sit alone all day I sit & think —
I watch the sun arise, I watch it sink
And feel no soul-light tho the day is clear
Surely it is a
folly; it is mere
Madness to stand for ever on the brink
Of dark despair & yet not break the link
That makes me scorned who cannot be held dear.
I will have done with it; I will not stand
And fear on without hope & tremble thus
Look for the break of day & miss it ever
Although my heart be broken they shall never
Say: She was glad to sojourn among us
Thankful if one would take her by the hand.
ALONG THE HIGHROAD THE WAY IS TOO LONG
Along the highroad the way is too long
Let us walk where the oak trees rise up thick
I take a crab-, you take a cherry stick
Let us go from among men to the throng
Of belted bees: the wild roses smell strong
And sweet; & my old dog is fain to lick
My hand: best so in good truth I am sick
Of the world; & hear silence as a song
And you I think are changed friend you who once
Would dance thro’ the long night; a something called
From your heart; into your hid brain it sunk;
Oh listen silence maketh the air drunk
I would not give these shades that have not palled
On me, for the broad light of many suns.
AND IS THIS AUGUST WEATHER? NAY NOT SO
And is this August weather? nay not so
With the long rain the cornfield waxeth dark.
How the cold rain comes pouring down & hark
To the chill wind whose measured pace & slow
Seems still to linger being loth to go.
I cannot stand beside the sea and mark
Its grandeur; it’s too wet for that: no lark
In this drear season cares to sing or show.
And since its name is August all men find
Fire not allowable; Winter foregone
Had more of sunlight & of glad warmth more
I shall be fain to run upon the shore
And mark the rain. Hath the sun ever shone
Cheer up there can be nothing worse to mind.
FROM EARLY DAWN UNTIL THE FLUSH OF NOON
From early dawn until the flush of noon
And from hot noon unto the hushèd night
I look around beholding all things bright
From the deep sun unto the silver moon
My heart & soul & spirit are in tune.
My sense is gladdened with an inward light.
The very clouds above my head are white
And glorious radiance shall disperse them soon.
All trees & bushes fruits & flowers bear,
The sea is full of life & beauty, how
The grand waves leap up — as tho’ full of sense,
A better day was not I think & ne’er
Was I so full of joy as I am now.
Surely a chill shall come & this go hence
I SEEK AMONG THE LIVING & I SEEK
I seek among the living & I seek
Among the dead for some to love; but few
I find at last & these have quite run through
Their store of love & friendship is too weak
And cold for me; yet will I never speak
Telling my heart want to cold listeners who
Will wonder smiling; I can bear & do
No tears shall sully my unfurrowed cheek
So when my dust shall mix with other dust
When I shall have found quiet in decay
And lie at ease & cease to be & rot
Those whom I love thinking of me shall not
Grieve with a measure, saying: Now we must
Weep for a little ere we go & play.
O GLORIOUS SEA THAT IN EACH CLIMBING WAVE
O glorious sea that in each climbing wave
Bearest great thoughts as in a wondrous book
The ends of earth oft at thy presence shook
And not denied when thou hast stooped to crave.
Sometimes the mighty winds have dared to brave
Thy potency; but with a single look
Raising thy head forth from its ancient nook
Thou hast recalled the quiet thou wouldst have.
What is a ship save many a fragile stick?
How should it brave thy terrors when they wear
The lightning crest that maketh substance wither
Yea though the planks be seasoned well & thick
Thine anger is too hard a thing to bear: —
Thou sayest to men: go back & come not hither.
OH THOU WHO TELL’ST ME THAT ALL HOPE IS OVER
Oh thou who tell’st me that all hope is over
With lazy limbs that heavily recline
On the soft cushions; flushed & fair with wine
Scarce seeming conscious of the scents that hover
Round & above thee: can thy heart recover
So soon its quiet, while mine own shall pine?
Thou who canst love & not o’erstep the line
Of comfort, art thou in good truth a lover
O take away from me those chill calm glances
As thou hast ta’en thy heart away; & give
My heart again that must forget to wander
Thy words were worse than silence they were lances
To poison all the life I have to live
Stagnate the streams of life that should meander
SURELY THERE IS AN ACHING VOID WITHIN
Surely there is an aching void within
Man’s spirit unto other men unknown
And which were it unveiled and freely shown
Would open to the sight so much of sin
And folly & a cry that at the din
His overbearing pride & overblown
Would quite shrink down & seem as it had grown
Humble, content to lose & not to win.
Oh that we so could hide the grief of years
From our own selves yea the whole guilt & trouble
And in our secret spirit look on grace;
Yet death for ever sendeth messengers
Before it conscience pricks, & were these double
They were not equal to our sin-stained face.
THE SPRING IS COME AGAIN NOT AS AT FIRST
The spring is come again not as at first
For then it was my spring; & now a brood
Of bitter memories haunt me, & my mood
Is much changed from the time when I was nursed
In the still country. Oh! my heart could burst
Thinking upon the long ago: the crude
Hopes all unrealised; the flowers that strewed
My path, now changed to painful thorns & curst.
And though I know the kingcups are as fine
As they were then, my spirit cannot soar
As it did once: when shadows of a wood
Or thinking of a blossom that soon should
Unfold & fill the air with scent, would pour
Peace on my brow now marked with many a line.
WHO SHALL MY WANDERING THOUGHTS STEADY & FIX
Who shall my wandering thoughts steady & fix
When I go forth into the world and gaze
Around me, thinking on mens evil ways
I wonder in myself to see how mix
Evil & good; beyond the Sleepy Styx
All things shall be unravelled whoso lays
These things to heart after the settled days
Shall know all. Even as a dog that licks
Your hand whom tears chide not away nor laughter
So to your souls clingeth the taint of crime
Shall it be ever so? & if not why?
The river bed is full of filthy slime
And so our heart is lined with wonder: die
And having died thou shalt see all things after.
YOU WHO LOOK ON PASSED AGES AS A GLASS
You who look on passed ages as a glass
To
shadow forth the future, in your home
Peacefully dwelling little heeding some
But loving many; as the visions pass
Turn from them for a moment to the grass
And solemn sun & blue o’erarching dome
And in the hush of nature think on Rome
Not as it is now but as it once was.
As of the mighty dead think without hope
But if you will indulge a hopeful pile
Yea if you will write about it in rhyme
For if it once had a too mighty scope
To be all as the sun fails not to smile
It shall be nothing to the end of time.
ANGELI AL CAPO, AL PIEDE
Angeli al capo, al piede:
E qual ricciuto agnello
Dormir fra lor si vede
Il bel mio bambinello.
AMAMI, T’AMO
Amami, t’amo,
Figliolin mio:
Cantisi, suonisi,
Con tintinnio.
Mamma t’abbraccia,
Cor suo ti chiama:
Suonisi, cantisi,
Ama chi t’ama.
E BABBO E MAMMA HA IL NOSTRO FIGLIOLINO
E babbo e mamma ha il nostro figliolino,
Ricco bambino:
Ma ne conosco un altro senza padre
E senza madre —
Il Poverino!
S’ADDORMENTÒ LA NOSTRA FIGLIOLINA
S’addormentò la nostra figliolina;
Nè si risveglierà
Per giorni e giorni assai sera o mattina:
Ma poi si sveglierà
E con cara ridente bocchettina
Ribacerà Mammà.
CUCCURUCÙ! CUCCURUCÙ!
Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Christina Rossetti Page 74