Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Christina Rossetti

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Delphi Complete Poetical Works of Christina Rossetti Page 76

by Christina Rossetti

For some who love him

  Would have it so.

  O UOMMIBATTO

  Agil, giocondo,

  Che ti sei fatto

  Irsuto e tondo!

  Deh non fuggire

  Qual vagabondo,

  Non disparire

  Forando il mondo:

  Pesa davvero

  D’un emisfero

  Non lieve il pondo.

  COR MIO, COR MIO

  Cor mio, cor mio,

  Più non ti veggo, ma mi rammento

  Del giorno spento,

  Cor mio.

  Pur ti ricordi del lungo amore,

  Cor del mio core,

  Cor mio?

  I SAID “ALL’S OVER” — & I MADE MY

  I said “All’s over” — & I made my

  Thenceforward to keep silence &

  From any hope or enterprise aga

  But as one certain day the sap

  Sun warmed & solaced in its f

  So something stirred in me th

  And all my hardness broke [illegible fragment]

  And hope once more tended [illegible fragment]

  I SAID GOOD BYE IN HOPE

  I said good bye in hope:

  But now we meet again

  I have no hope at all

  Of anything but pain,

  Our parting & our meeting

  Alike in vain.

  Hope on thro’ all your life

  Until the end, dear Friend.

  Live thro’ your noble life

  Where joy & promise blend:

  I too will live my life

  Until the end.

  Long may your vine entwine,

  Long may your figtree spread

  Their paradise of shade

  Above your cherished head:

  My shelter was a gourd,

  And it is dead.

  Yet when out of a grave

  We are gathered home at last,

  Then may we own life spilt

  No good worth holding fast: —

  Death had its bitterness

  But it is past.

  MY MOUSE

  A Venus seems my Mouse

  Come safe ashore from foaming seas,

  Which in a small way & at ease

  Keeps house.

  An Iris seems my Mouse,

  Bright bow of that exhausted shower

  Which made a world of sweet-herbs flower

  And boughs.

  A darling Mouse it is: —

  Part hope not likely to take wing,

  Part memory, part anything

  You please.

  Venus-cum-Iris Mouse

  From shifting tides set safe apart,

  In no mere bottle, in my heart

  Keep house.

  HAD FORTUNE PARTED US

  Had Fortune parted us

  Fortune is blind,

  Had Anger parted us

  Anger unkind —

  But since God parts us

  Let us part humbly

  Bearing our burden

  Bravely & dumbly.

  And since there is but one

  Heaven, not another,

  Let us not close that door

  Against each other.

  God’s Love is higher than mine,

  Christ’s tenfold proved,

  Yet even I would die

  For thee Beloved.

  COUNTERBLAST ON PENNY TRUMPET

  “When raged the conflict, fierce & hot.”

  If Mr. Bright retiring does not please

  And Mr. Gladstone staying gives offence,

  What can man do which is not one of these?

  Use your own common sense.

  Yet he’s a brave man who abjures his cause

  For conscience’ sake: let byegones be byegones:

  Not this among the makers of our laws

  The least & and last of Johns.

  If all our byegones could be piled on shelves

  High out of reach of penny-line Tyrtaeus!

  If only all of us could see ourselves

  As others see us!

  A ROUNDEL SEEMS TO FIT A ROUND OF DAYS

  A roundel seems to fit a round of days

  Be they the days of upright man or scoundrel:

  Allow me to construct then in your praise

  A roundel.

  [This flower of wit turns out a weed like groundsel:

  Yet deign to welcome it, as loftiest bays

  Grown on the shore of Girvan’s ocean groundswell.]

  Accept the love that underlies the lays;

  Condone the barbarous rhymes that will not sound well

  In building up, all Poets to amaze,

  A roundel.

  HEAVEN OVERARCHES EARTH AND SEA

  Heaven overarches earth and sea,

  Earth-sadness and sea-bitterness;

  Heaven overarches you and me:

  A little while, and we shall be

  (Please God) where there is no more sea

  Or barren wilderness.

  Heaven overarches you and me

  And all earth’s gardens and her graves:

  Look up with me, until we see

  The day break and the shadows flee;

  What tho’ tonight wrecks you and me,

  If so tomorrow saves?

  SLEEPING AT LAST, THE TROUBLE & TUMULT OVER

  Sleeping at last, the trouble & tumult over,

  Sleeping at last, the struggle & horror past,

  Cold & white out of sight of friend & of lover

  Sleeping at last.

  No more a tired heart downcast or overcast,

  No more pangs that wring or shifting fears that hover,

  Sleeping at last in a dreamless sleep locked fast.

  Fast asleep. Singing birds in their leafy cover

  Cannot wake her, nor shake her the gusty blast.

  Under the purple thyme & the purple clover

  Sleeping at last.

  4TH MAY MORNING

  My carrier pigeon is a “fancy” pigeon,

  Less tangible than widgeon;

  A sympathetic love, — yet not a Cupid,

  Nor pert nor stupid,

  Heart-warm & snug tho’ May Day deal in zeroes,

  A well-known Eros.

  On windless wings by flight untired for ever

  Outspeed the speeding river,

  From Torrington remote to utmost Chelsea

  ( — Do what I tells ye! — )

  Carry a heart of love & thanks & blisses,

  A beak of kisses,

  Past Piccadilly’s hills & populous valleys,

  Past every human head that more or less is

  Begirt with tawny tresses,

  Past every house, to sumptuous Bellevue Palace;

  There greet the courteous Courtneys with politeness,

  And the dear Scotts with an affectionate brightness,

  And give a kiss to dark-locked Alice.

  QUANTO A LEI GRATA IO SONO

  “Quanto a Lei grata io sono

  L’unmil dirà semplicità del dono.”

  THE CHINAMAN

  ‘Centre of Earth!’ a Chinaman he said,

  And bent over a map his pig-tailed head, —

  That map in which, portrayed in colours bright,

  China, all dazzling, burst upon the sight:

  ‘Centre of Earth!’ repeatedly he cries,

  ‘Land of the brave, the beautiful, the wise!’

  Thus he exclaimed; when lo his words arrested

  Showed what sharp agony his head had tested.

  He feels a tug — another, and another —

  And quick exclaims, ‘Hallo! what’s now the bother?’

  But soon alas perceives. And, ‘Why, false night,

  Why not from men shut out the hateful sight?

  The faithless English have cut off my tail,

  And left me my sad fortunes to bewail.

  Now in the streets I can no more appear,

  For all the other men a pig-
tail wear.’

  He said, and furious cast into the fire

  His tail: those flames became its funeral-pyre.

  COME CHEER UP, MY LADS, ‘TIS TO GLORY WE STEER!

  ‘Come cheer up, my lads, ‘tis to glory we steer!’

  As the soldier remarked whose post lay in the rear.

  THE PLAGUE

  “Listen, the last stroke of death’s noon has struck —

  The plague is come,” a gnashing Madman said,

  And laid him down straightway upon his bed.

  His writhèd hands did at the linen pluck;

  Then all is over. With a careless chuck

  Among his fellows he is cast. How sped

  His spirit matters little: many dead

  Make men hard-hearted. — ”Place him on the truck.

  Go forth into the burial-ground and find

  Room at so much a pitful for so many.

  One thing is to be done; one thing is clear:

  Keep thou back from the hot unwholesome wind,

  That it infect not thee.” Say, is there any

  Who mourneth for the multitude dead here?

  HOW MANY AUTHORS ARE MY FIRST!

  How many authors are my first!

  And I shall be so too

  Unless I finish speedily

  That which I have to do.

  My second is a lofty tree

  And a delicious fruit;

  This in the hot-house flourishes —

  That amid rocks takes root.

  My whole is an immortal queen

  Renowned in classic lore:

  Her a god won without her will,

  And her a goddess bore.

  ME YOU OFTEN MEET

  Me you often meet

  In London’s crowded street,

  And merry children’s voices my resting-place proclaim.

  Pictures and prose and verse

  Compose me — I rehearse

  Evil and good and folly, and call each by its name.

  I make men glad, and I

  Can bid their senses fly,

  And festive echoes know me of Isis and of Cam.

  But give me to a friend,

  And amity will end,

  Though he may have the temper and meekness of a lamb.

  SO I BEGAN MY WALK OF LIFE; NO STOP

  So I began my walk of life; no stop

  Was possible; or else my will was frail;

  Or is it that the first stumblings entail

  Weakness no after strength has power to prop?

  The heart puts forth her boughs; and these we lop

  For very wantonness; until the gale

  Is rank with blood; then our life-portions fail

  And we are fain to share another’s sop.

  At first my heart was true and my soul true,

  And then the outside world believed me false.

  Therefore my sweets grew bitter, and I thrust

  Life back, till it stood still and turned to must.

  Yet sometimes through the great stagnation calls

  Of spirits reach me: is it so with you?

  SO I GREW HALF DELIRIOUS AND QUITE SICK

  So I grew half delirious and quite sick,

  And thro’ the darkness saw strange faces grin

  Of Monsters at me. One put forth a fin,

  And touched me clammily: I could not pick

  A quarrel with it: it began to lick

  My hand, making meanwhile a piteous din

  And shedding human tears: it would begin

  To near me, then retreat. I heard the quick

  Pulsation of my heart, I marked the fight

  Of life and death within me; then sleep threw

  Her veil around me; but this thing is true:

  When I awoke the sun was at his height,

  And I wept sadly, knowing that one new

  Creature had love for me, and others spite.

  ON THE NOTE YOU DO NOT SEND ME

  On the note you do not send me

  I have thought too long: adieu.

  Hope and fear no longer rend me: —

  Home is near: not news of you.

  CHARON

  In my cottage near the Styx

  Co. and Charon still combine

  Us to ferry o’er like bricks

  In a boat of chaste design.

  Cerberus, thou triple fair,

  Distance doth thy charms impair:

  Let the passage give to us

  Charon, Co., and Cerberus.

  chorus

  Now the passage gives us to

  Charon, Cerberus, and Co.

  FROM METASTASIO

  First, last, and dearest,

  My love, mine own,

  Thee best beloved,

  Thee love alone,

  Once and for ever

  So love I thee.

  First as a suppliant

  Love makes his moan,

  Then as a monarch

  Sets up his throne:

  Once and for ever —

  So love I thee.

  CHIESA E SIGNORE

  la chiesa

  Vola, preghiera, e digli

  Perchè Ti stai lontano?

  Passeggi Tu frai gigli

  Portando rosa in mano?

  Non Ti fui giglio e rosa

  Quando mi amasti Tu?

  Rivolgiti alla sposa,

  O mio Signor Gesu.

  il signore

  Di te non mi scordai

  Sposa mia dolce e mesta:

  Se Mi sei ros il sai,

  Che porto spine in testa.

  Ti diedi e core e vita,

  Me tutto Io diedi a te,

  Ed or ti porgo aita:

  Abbi fidanza in Me.

  la chiesa

  Vola, preghiera, a Lui,

  E grida: Ahi pazienza!

  Te voglio e non altrui,

  Te senza e tutto senza.

  Fragrante piu di giglio

  E rosa a me sei Tu,

  Di Dio l’ Eterno Figlio,

  O mio Signor Gesu.

  GOLDEN HOLLY

  Common Holly bears a berry

  To make Christmas Robins merry: —

  Golden Holly bears a rose,

  Unfolding at October’s close

  To cheer an old Friend’s eyes and nose.

  I toiled on, but thou

  Wast weary of the way,

  And so we parted: now

  Who shall say

  Which is happier — I or thou?

  I am weary now

  On the solitary way:

  But art thou rested, thou?

  Who shall say

  Which of us is calmer now?

  Still my heart’s love, thou,

  In thy secret way,

  Art still remembered now:

  Who shall say —

  Still rememberest thou?

  COR MIO

  Still sometimes in my secret heart of hearts

  I say “Cor mio” when I remember you,

  And thus I yield us both one tender due,

  Welding one whole of two divided parts.

  Ah Friend, too wise or unwise for such arts,

  Ah noble Friend, silent and strong and true,

  Would you have given me roses for the rue

  For which I bartered roses in love’s marts?

  So late in autumn one forgets the spring,

  Forgets the summer with its opulence,

  The callow birds that long have found a wing,

  The swallows that more lately got them hence:

  Will anything like spring, will anything

  Like summer, rouse one day the slumbering sense?

  MY OLD ADMIRATION BEFORE I WAS TWENTY

  My old admiration before I was twenty, —

  Is predilect still, now promoted to se’enty!

  My own demi-century plus an odd one

  Some weight to my judgment may fairly impart.

  Accept this faint flash of a smouldering fun,
<
br />   The fun of a heavy old heart.

  TO MARY ROSSETTI

  You were born in the Spring

  When the pretty birds sing

  In sunbeamy bowers:

  Then dress like a Fairy,

  Dear dumpling my Mary,

  In green and in flowers.

  NE’ SOGNI TI VEGGO

  Ne’ sogni ti veggo,

  Amante ed amico;

  Ai piedi ti seggo,

  Ti tngo tutor.

  Nè chiedi nè chieggo,

  Nè dici nè dico,

  L’ amore ab antico

  Che scaldaci il cor.

  Ah voce se avessi

  Me stessa a scoprire —

  Ah esprimer sapessi

  L’ angoscia e l’ amor!

  Ah almen se potessi

  A lungo dormire,

  Nè pianger nè dire,

  Mirandoti ognor!

  TO MY FIOR-DI-LISA

  The Rose is Love’s own flower, and Love’s no less

  The Lily’s tenderness.

  Then half their dignity must Roses yield

  To Lilies of the field?

  Nay, diverse notes make up true harmony,

  All-fashioned loves agree:

  Love wears the Lily’s whiteness, and Love glows

  In the deep-hearted Rose.

  HAIL, NOBLE FACE OF NOBLE FRIEND!

  Hail, noble face of noble friend! —

  Hail, honored master hand and dear! —

  On you may Christmas good descend

 

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