Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Christina Rossetti

by Christina Rossetti

  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!