Bulchevy's Book of English Verse Part 147

Raise me a das of silk and down; Hang it with vair and purple dyes; Carve it in doves and pomegranates, And peac.o.c.ks with a hundred eyes; Work it in gold and silver grapes, In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys; Because the birthday of my life Is come, my love is come to me.

Christina Georgina Rossetti. 1830-1894

781. Song

WHEN I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me; Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree: Be the green gra.s.s above me With showers and dewdrops wet; And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget.

I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain; I shall not hear the nightingale Sing on, as if in pain; And dreaming through the twilight That doth not rise nor set, Haply I may remember, And haply may forget.

Christina Georgina Rossetti. 1830-1894

782. Twice

I TOOK my heart in my hand (O my love, O my love), I said: Let me fall or stand, Let me live or die, But this once hear me speak (O my love, O my love)-- Yet a woman's words are weak; You should speak, not I.

You took my heart in your hand With a friendly smile, With a critical eye you scann'd, Then set it down, And said, 'It is still unripe, Better wait awhile; Wait while the skylarks pipe, Till the corn grows brown.'

As you set it down it broke-- Broke, but I did not wince; I smiled at the speech you spoke, At your judgement I heard: But I have not often smiled Since then, nor question'd since, Nor cared for cornflowers wild, Nor sung with the singing bird.

I take my heart in my hand, O my G.o.d, O my G.o.d, My broken heart in my hand: Thou hast seen, judge Thou.

My hope was written on sand, O my G.o.d, O my G.o.d: Now let thy judgement stand-- Yea, judge me now.

This contemn'd of a man, This marr'd one heedless day, This heart take thou to scan Both within and without: Refine with fire its gold, Purge Thou its dross away-- Yea, hold it in Thy hold, Whence none can pluck it out.

I take my heart in my hand-- I shall not die, but live-- Before Thy face I stand; I, for Thou callest such: All that I have I bring, All that I am I give, Smile Thou and I shall sing, But shall not question much.

Christina Georgina Rossetti. 1830-1894

783. Uphill

DOES the road wind uphill all the way?

Yes, to the very end.

Will the day's journey take the whole long day?

From morn to night, my friend.

But is there for the night a resting-place?

A roof for when the slow, dark hours begin.

May not the darkness hide it from my face?

You cannot miss that inn.

Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?

Those who have gone before.

Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?

They will not keep you waiting at that door.

Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?

Of labour you shall find the sum.

Will there be beds for me and all who seek?

Yea, beds for all who come.

Christina Georgina Rossetti. 1830-1894

784. Pa.s.sing Away

Pa.s.sING away, saith the World, pa.s.sing away: Chances, beauty and youth sapp'd day by day: Thy life never continueth in one stay.

Is the eye waxen dim, is the dark hair changing to gray That hath won neither laurel nor bay?

I shall clothe myself in Spring and bud in May: Thou, root-stricken, shalt not rebuild thy decay On my bosom for aye.

Then I answer'd: Yea.

Pa.s.sing away, saith my Soul, pa.s.sing away: With its burden of fear and hope, of labour and play, Hearken what the past doth witness and say: Rust in thy gold, a moth is in thine array, A canker is in thy bud, thy leaf must decay.

At midnight, at c.o.c.kcrow, at morning, one certain day, Lo, the Bridegroom shall come and shall not delay: Watch thou and pray.

Then I answer'd: Yea.

Pa.s.sing away, saith my G.o.d, pa.s.sing away: Winter pa.s.seth after the long delay: New grapes on the vine, new figs on the tender spray, Turtle calleth turtle in Heaven's May.

Though I tarry, wait for me, trust me, watch and pray.

Arise, come away; night is past, and lo, it is day; My love, my sister, my spouse, thou shalt hear me say-- Then I answer'd: Yea.

Christina Georgina Rossetti. 1830-1894

785. Marvel of Marvels

MARVEL of marvels, if I myself shall behold With mine own eyes my King in His city of gold; Where the least of lambs is spotless white in the fold, Where the least and last of saints in spotless white is stoled, Where the dimmest head beyond a moon is aureoled.

O saints, my beloved, now mouldering to mould in the mould, Shall I see you lift your heads, see your cerements unroll'd, See with these very eyes? who now in darkness and cold Tremble for the midnight cry, the rapture, the tale untold,-- The Bridegroom cometh, cometh, His Bride to enfold!

Cold it is, my beloved, since your funeral bell was toll'd: Cold it is, O my King, how cold alone on the wold!

Christina Georgina Rossetti. 1830-1894

786. Is it Well with the Child?

SAFE where I cannot die yet, Safe where I hope to lie too, Safe from the fume and the fret; You, and you, Whom I never forget.

Safe from the frost and the snow, Safe from the storm and the sun, Safe where the seeds wait to grow One by one, And to come back in blow.

Christina Georgina Rossetti. 1830-1894

787. Remember

REMEMBER me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land; When you can no more hold me by the hand, Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.

Remember me when no more day by day You tell me of our future that you plann'd: Only remember me; you understand It will be late to counsel then or pray.

Yet if you should forget me for a while And afterwards remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave A vestige of the thoughts that once I had, Better by far you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad.

Christina Georgina Rossetti. 1830-1894