Pictures and Poems

Pictures &; poems — ‎Mary's Girlhood · The Blessed Damozel · "Found"; · Venus Verticordia · Lilith · La Bella Mano · The Portrait · Pandora · Mary Magdalene · Proserpina · Cassandra · Astarte Syriaca · A Sea-Spell · Fiammetta · The Day-Dream · Mnemosyne
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
1899
Exported from Wikisource on 03/18/20
Pictures and Poems
HANKS ARE DUE TO MR. FREDERICK HOLLYER
BY WHOSE KIND PERMISSION MANY OF THE
PICTURES IN THIS VOLUME ARE REPRODUCED
C O P Y R I G H T⁠1 8 9 9 ,⁠BY
ROBERT HOWARD RUSSELL
Press of The F. A. Bassette Company
Springfield, Massachusetts⁠
DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI
1828—1882
THERE seems now little reason to doubt that Rossetti was right in considering himself a painter who wrote, rather than a poet who painted, and in maintaining, as he always did, that he could better embody his conceptions in design and color than in words. Both in painting and in poetry he seems to have known perfectly well what he wished to express, but whereas his poetic faculty, naturally of a high and brilliant order, had been diligently cultivated from early youth, the serious study of design was not entered into until comparatively late in life, and though then pursued with characteristic energy, yielded satisfactory results only at the cost of great effort. This fact but throws into stronger relief his brave and continuous struggles for technical excellence in painting according to his own high ideals, when in poetry, at far less mental and physical cost, success was to be had.
Beautiful in themselves as are Rossetti's paintings, their inspiration is so often literary, that their full significance can only be properly understood and appreciated when they are studied with the aid of the enlightening text. In nearly every case where this text is original with Rossetti it takes the form of a sonnet. These sonnets were, in all cases, written for the pictures, and after the latter had been more or less completely finished. In one instance only, that of "The Blessed Damozel," is the painting an illustration of an idea expressed previously in verse.
All Rossetti's work bears so strongly the stamp of his personality that, in judging of it, standards which would be quite adequate in the case of an artist of less originality, are valueless. It appeals to us a great deal, a little, or not at all, according to the degree our own temperament may, at the time, be in harmony with the idea expressed in the poem or picture before us. It would be difficult to over-estimate the impressive and brilliant originality of his work, utterly unlike, as it is, that of any previous artist in England. Even his detractors admit his gorgeous wealth of color—without parallel in British art, and worthy to rank at its best with that of the great Venetian masters—though to justify their dislike they lay great stress on the physical peculiarities of Rossetti's ideal women, on their abnormally swan-like necks, and their hands, sometimes too large for beauty. That such technical shortcomings exist is undeniable, but with the passing of years these have ceased to be considered the main characteristics of his work, and the majority of the public now agree with Ruskin, when he writes: "I believe that Rossetti's name should be placed first on the list of men who have raised and changed the spirit of modern art; raised in absolute attainment, changed in the direction of temper."
In studying Rossetti's pictures it must be steadily borne in mind that physical beauty was always, with him, but the outward manifestation of spiritual beauty. He is interested in man, rather than in nature, but it is not the human animal, it is the spirit shining through the outer covering, that appeals to him. Because he has chosen a type of beauty that renders expression most manifest and has made this type peculiarly his own, some people assert that they can see in all his work but one face, always repeated. Such persons are wilfully blind, for, though his personality is visible in all he did, many models, women of high culture and distinction, posed for him gladly. No less than fourteen models are known to have sat various times for his more important pictures, not to mention portraits and numerous studies for which his friends posed. In his earlier work are seen his mother, and his sister Christina; later Miss Sidall, afterwards Mrs. Rossetti, often repeated. After her death Miss Ruth Herbert (Lady Lilith); Mrs. William Morris (Day Dream, Astarte Syriaca, Proserpine); Miss Alice Wilding (Sibylla Palmifera, Veronica Veronese, Dis Manibus, La Ghirlandata, The Sea-Spell, Rosa Triplex and others); Mrs. Aldham Heaton (Regina Cordium); Miss Spartali, afterwards Mrs. Stillman, (Fiametta, the lady on the right of the funeral couch in "Dante's Dream," etc.); Miss May Morris (another version of Rosa Triplex); Mrs. Burne Jones, Mrs. Dalrymple, Mrs. Lushington and many others.
Since Rossetti's death in 1882, so much has been written concerning the formation of the "Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood," that it is only necessary here briefly to touch upon his connection with the Brotherhood in so far as it influenced that side of his artistic life now under consideration. The original members, seven in number, included, besides Dante Gabriel Rossetti, his brother William Michael Rossetti, John Everett Millais, William Holman Hunt, Thomas Woolner, James Collinson and Frederick George Stephens. Ford Madox Brown, though generous with his sympathy, help and advice, refused to join the Brotherhood, believing that little good was ever brought about by coteries of any kind. F. G. Stephens ("John Seward") in his article "The Purpose and Tendency of Early Italian Art," published in the second number (February 1850) of "The Germ"—the literary organ of the Brotherhood—writes: "It has been said that there is presumption in this movement of the modern school, a want of deference to established authorities, a removing of ancient landmarks. This is best answered by the profession that nothing can be more humble than the pretension to the observation of facts alone, and the truthful rendering of them. If we are not to depart from established principles, how are we to advance at all?" Surely this sounds modest enough, and it is, now, difficult to understand the bitterness of denunciation indulged in by the critics in their willful misrepresentation of the entire matter. This hostility of the press had one good result: it induced the members of the Brotherhood to publish "The Germ," the better to explain their ideas, and to bring before the public poetry that would, otherwise, have remained long unpublished. It is safe to assert that the four numbers issued of this amazing periodical (two as "The Germ" and two as "Art and Poetry") contained more original work of the first rank than was ever before found in the four consecutive numbers of any magazine. In it was first published Rossetti's prose-poem "Hand and Soul," and an early draft of "My Sister's Sleep;" "The Blessed Damozel" (differing considerably from the revised version published in the volume of "Poems" of 1870); "The Carillon;" "From the Cliffs;" "Pax Vobis;" and the six "Sonnets for Pictures." "The Blessed Damozel," written before Rossetti had reached his nineteenth birthday, is universally recognized as one of his consummate productions, marking the high level of his faculty, whether inventive or executive. One writer, paraphrasing Holman Hunt's generous verdict on Millais' painting "Lorenzo at Supper with Isabella and her Brothers," does not hesitate to pronounce "The Blessed Damozel," "the most wonderful poem that any youth still under twenty years of age ever produced in the world." This is a sweeping assertion, but is the praise too high? There had been, up to that time, nothing at all like it in English literature. The interpretation of mystical thoughts by concrete images was startlingly original; original as few poems but those by masters of the craft can be said to be. During the twenty years that elapsed between its appearance in "The Germ" and its publication in the "Poems," the public had seen the production of much poetry indirectly influenced by it, and when it appeared in 1870 in its revised form the critics were loud in their praises. One can only surmize the enthusiasm of the select few who read the first version in 1850!
Rossetti's first picture painted strictly according to the pre-Raphaelite ideals was "The Girlhood of Mary, Virgin." Mr. F. G. Stevens, writing as late as 1894, and therefore, we may conclude, unswayed by any temporary enthusiasm, says: "A picture which, apart from its prodigious merits and simply as the first work of a painter whose training had been both brief and interrupted, I never cease to look upon with indescribable wonder. A little flat and gray, and rather thin in painting, it is most carefully drawn and soundly modelled, rich in good and pure coloring, and in the brooding, dreamy pathos, full of reverence and yet unconscious of 'the time to come,' which the Virgin's still and chaste face expresses, there is a vein of poetry, the freshest and most profound..... His sister Christina sat for the Virgin, his mother for St. Anne. The Child-Angel was painted from a younger sister of Mr. Woolner." This picture and "Ecce Ancilla Domini!", to which by natural sequence it leads, are the only two painted by Rossetti according to the strict pre-Raphaelite standard. With the success of Millais' "A Huguenot" in 1850, the first phase of pre-Raphaelitism ended and the Brotherhood ceased to exist; it had been organized to change public taste; it did change it, and having accomplished its object, disbanded; not to fade away, but to broaden and embrace other things. All dogmas and attempts at an accuracy impossible for the natural eye to perceive were abandoned, and in their place came a greater love of color, beauty, passion and sweet sound. In this second phase the leaders were Rossetti, Swinburne, Morris and Burne-Jones.
Rossetti, in any age, with his subtle and ardent mind, must have been a leader. Animated throughout his life by an ideal of beauty, both in poetry and in painting, most intense in character, his influence over nearly all of those with whom he came in contact was magnetic and almost unbounded. It may be questioned whether, if he had published in 1862, as he had planned to do, the volume of his collected original poems, the public would have appreciated and praised his work as highly as they did when it was issued eight years later; but it is probable that his high rank as a poet, and his influence on the younger writers, would have been sooner and more readily acknowledged. The sad and sudden death of his wife in February 1862, led Rossetti to change the plans he had made for publishing his poems, and caused him, instead, to place in her coffin, on the day of her interment, a volume containing the only complete manuscript of all his original poems. Here they remained for seven years, until Rossetti, yielding to the urgent persuasions of his friends, came to see that such a loss to the world was neither desirable nor necessary. Accordingly, upon the night of October 6th—7th, 1869, the grave was opened and the poems were recovered. "I have often supposed," writes Mr. F. G. Stephens, "that Rossetti might have found an authority, or example, for placing in and afterwards withdrawing his poems from the grave of his wife, in the record that when Francis I. visited Avignon, that monarch caused the tomb of Laura de Sade to be opened, and took from it a small box containing verses which had been written by Petrarch's own hand, and were placed there by him; they were afterwards, by order of the King, returned."
What place future generations will assign to Rossetti amongst the poets cannot positively be asserted. That it will be a high one the passing of each year seems to render more certain; and it is unlikely that the position now held by the "House of Life," as one of the four finest sonnet cycles, or "The Blessed Damozel" as one of the most mystically romantic ballads, in English literature, will be changed. His permanent place as a painter it is less easy to foretell, dependant as it will always be on the comparative valuation placed upon the imaginative and the technical sides of painting; one statement only is unquestionable—no artist of the English-speaking race has ever attained to an equal eminence with Rossetti as poet and as painter combined. A study of the parallel presentation, in the following pages, of poems and pictures (much though the latter have lost through their loss of color) will show far better than words could do his mastery in both arts.
FITZROY CARRINGTON.⁠
⁠New York, 1899.
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Pictures &; poems — Mary's Girlhood
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Exported from Wikisource on 03/18/20
The Girlhood of Mary, Virgin
and
"Ecce Ancilla Domini!"
MARY'S GIRLHOOD
I
THIS is that blessed Mary, pre-elect⁠
God's Virgin. Gone is a great while, and she
⁠Dwelt young in Nazareth of Galilee.
Unto God's will she brought devout respect,
Profound simplicity of intellect,
⁠And supreme patience. From her mother's knee
⁠Faithful and hopeful; wise in charity;
Strong in grave peace; in pity circumspect.
So held she through her girlhood; as it were
⁠An angel-watered lily, that near God
⁠Grows and is quiet. Till, one dawn at home
She woke in her white bed, and had no fear
⁠At all,—yet wept till sunshine, and felt awed:
⁠Because the fullness of the time was come.
II
These are the symbols. On that cloth of red
⁠I' the centre is the Tripoint: perfect each,
⁠Except the second of its points, to teach
That Christ is not yet born. The books—whose head
Is golden Charity, as Paul hath said—
⁠Those virtues are wherein the soul is rich:
⁠Therefore on them the lily standeth, which
Is Innocence, being interpreted.
The seven-thorn'd briar and the palm seven-leaved
⁠Are her great sorrow and her great reward.
⁠⁠Until the end be full, the Holy One
Abides without. She soon shall have achieved
⁠Her perfect purity: yea, God the Lord
⁠⁠Shall soon vouchsafe His Son to be her Son.
"Ecce Ancilla Domini!"
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Pictures &; poems — The Blessed Damozel
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Exported from Wikisource on 03/18/20
The Blessed Damozel
THE BLESSED DAMOZEL
THE blessed damozel leaned out
From the gold bar of Heaven;
Her eyes were deeper than the depth
⁠Of waters stilled at even;
She had three lilies in her hand,
⁠And the stars in her hair were seven.
Her robe, ungirt from clasp to hem,
⁠No wrought flowers did adorn,
But a white rose of Mary's gift,
⁠For service meetly worn;
Her hair that lay along her back
⁠Was yellow like ripe corn.
Herseemed she scarce had been a day
⁠One of God's choristers;
The wonder was not yet quite gone
⁠From that still look of hers;
Albeit, to them she left, her day
⁠Had counted as ten years.
(To one, it is ten years of years.
⁠. . . Yet, now, and in this place,
Surely she leaned o'er me—her hair
⁠Fell all about my face. . . .
Nothing: the autumn-fall of leaves.
⁠The whole year sets apace.)
It was the rampart of God's house
⁠That she was standing on;
By God built over the sheer depth
⁠The which is Space begun;
So high, that looking downward thence
⁠She scarce could see the sun.
It lies in Heaven, across the flood
⁠Of ether, as a bridge.
Beneath, the tides of day and night
⁠With flame and darkness ridge
The void, as low as where this earth
⁠Spins like a fretful midge.
Around her, lovers, newly met
⁠'Mid deathless love's acclaims,
Spoke evermore among themselves
⁠Their heart-remembered names;
And the souls mounting up to God
⁠Went by her like thin flames.
And still she bowed herself and stooped
⁠Out of the circling charm;
Until her bosom must have made
⁠The bar she leaned on warm,
And the lilies lay as if asleep
⁠Along her bended arm.
From the fixed place of Heaven she saw
⁠Time like a pulse shake fierce
Through all the worlds. Her gaze still strove
⁠Within the gulf to pierce
Its path; and now she spoke as when
⁠The stars sang in their spheres.
The sun was gone now; the curled moon
⁠Was like a little feather
Fluttering far down the gulf; and now
⁠She spoke through the still weather.
Her voice was like the voice of stars
⁠Had when they sang together.
(Ah sweet! Even now, in that bird's song,
⁠Strove not her accents there,
Fain to be hearkened? When those bells
⁠Possessed the mid-day air,
Strove not her steps to reach my side
⁠Down all the echoing stair?)
"I wish that he were come to me,
⁠For he will come," she said.
"Have I not prayed in Heaven?—on earth,
⁠Lord, Lord, has he not pray'd?
Are not two prayers a perfect strength?
⁠And shall I feel afraid?
"When round his head the aureole clings,
⁠And he is clothed in white,
I'll take his hand and go with him
⁠To the deep wells of light;
As unto a stream we will step down,
⁠And bathe there in God's sight.
"We two will stand beside that shrine,
⁠Occult, withheld, untrod,
Whose lamps are stirred continually
⁠With prayer sent up to God;
And see our old prayers, granted, melt
⁠Each like a little cloud.
"We two will lie i' the shadow of
⁠That living mystic tree
Within whose secret growth the Dove
⁠Is sometimes felt to be,
While every leaf that His plumes touch
⁠Saith His Name audibly.
"And I myself will teach to him,
⁠I myself, lying so,
The songs I sing here; which his voice
⁠Shall pause in, hushed and slow,
And find some knowledge at each pause,
⁠Or some new thing to know."
(Alas! we two, we two, thou say'st!
⁠Yea, one wast thou with me
That once of old. But shall God lift
⁠To endless unity
The soul whose likeness with thy soul
⁠Was but its love for thee?)
"We two," she said, "will seek the groves
⁠Where the lady Mary is,
With her five handmaidens, whose names
⁠Are five sweet symphonies,
Cecily, Gertrude, Magdalen,
⁠Margaret and Rosalys.
"Circlewise sit they, with bound locks
⁠And foreheads garlanded;
Into the fine cloth white like flame
⁠Weaving the golden thread,
To fashion the birth-robes for them
⁠Who are just born, being dead.
"He shall fear, haply, and be dumb:
⁠Then will I lay my cheek
To his, and tell about our love,
⁠Not once abashed or weak:
And the dear Mother will approve
⁠My pride, and let me speak.
"Herself shall bring us, hand in hand,
⁠To Him round whom all souls
Kneel, the clear-ranged unnumbered heads
⁠Bowed with their aureoles:
And angels meeting us shall sing
⁠To their citherns and citoles.
"There will I ask of Christ the Lord
⁠Thus much for him and me:—
Only to live as once on earth
⁠With Love,—only to be,
As then awhile, for ever now
⁠Together, I and he."
She gazed and listened and then said,
⁠Less sad of speech than mild,—
"All this is when he comes." She ceased.
⁠The light thrilled towards her, fill'd
With angels in strong level flight.
⁠Her eyes prayed, and she smil'd.
(I saw her smile.) But soon their path
⁠Was vague in distant spheres:
And then she cast her arms along
⁠The golden barriers,
And laid her face between her hands,
⁠And wept. (I heard her tears.)
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Pictures &; poems — "Found";
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Exported from Wikisource on 03/18/20
"Found"
"FOUND"
THERE is a budding morrow in midnight:"—
So sang our Keats, our English nightingale.
⁠And here, as lamps across the bridge turn pale
In London's smokeless resurrection-light,
Dark breaks to dawn. But o'er the deadly blight
⁠Of Love deflowered and sorrow of none avail,
⁠Which makes this man gasp and this woman quail,
Can day from darkness ever again take flight?
Ah! gave not these two hearts their mutual pledge,
Under one mantle sheltered 'neath the hedge
⁠In gloaming courtship? And, O God! to-day
He only knows he holds her;—but what part
Can life now take ? She cries in her locked heart,—
⁠"Leave me—I do not know you—go away!"
About this digital edition
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Pictures &; poems — Venus Verticordia
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Exported from Wikisource on 03/18/20
Venus Verticordia
VENUS VERTICORDIA
SHE hath the apple in her hand for thee,
Yet almost in her heart would hold it back;
⁠She muses, with her eyes upon the track
Of that which in thy spirit they can see.
Haply, "Behold, he is at peace," saith she;
⁠"Alas! the apple for his lips,—the dart
⁠That follows its brief sweetness to his heart,—
The wandering of his feet perpetually!"
A little space her glance is still and coy,
⁠But if she give the fruit that works her spell,
Those eyes shall flame as for her Phrygian boy.
⁠Then shall her bird's strained throat the woe foretell,
And her far seas moan as a single shell,
⁠And through her dark grove strike the light of Troy.
About this digital edition
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Pictures &; poems — Lilith
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Exported from Wikisource on 03/18/20
Lilith
LILITH
OF Adam's first wife, Lilith, it is told
(The witch he loved before the gift of Eve,)
⁠That, ere the snake's, her sweet tongue could deceive,
And her enchanted hair was the first gold.
And still she sits, young while the earth is old,
⁠And, subtly of herself contemplative,
⁠Draws men to watch the bright web she can weave,
Till heart and body and life are in its hold.
The rose and poppy are her flowers; for where
⁠Is he not found, O Lilith, whom shed scent
And soft-shed kisses and soft sleep shall snare?
⁠Lo! as that youth's eyes burned at thine, so went
⁠Thy spell through him, and left his straight neck bent
And round his heart one strangling golden hair.
About this digital edition
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Pictures &; poems — La Bella Mano
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Exported from Wikisource on 03/18/20
LA BELLA MANO
O LOVELY hand, that thy sweet self doth lave
In that thy pure and proper element,
⁠Whence erst the Lady of Love's high advent
Was born, and endless fires sprang from the wave:—
Even as her Loves to her their offerings gave,
⁠For thee the jewelled gifts they bear; while each
⁠Looks to those lips, of music-measured speech
The fount, and of more bliss than man may crave.
In royal wise ring-girt and bracelet-spann'd,
⁠A flower of Venus' own virginity,
Go shine among thy sisterly sweet band;
⁠In maiden-minded converse delicately
⁠Evermore white and soft; until thou be,
O hand! heart-handsel'd in a lover's hand.
About this digital edition
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Pictures &; poems — The Portait
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Exported from Wikisource on 03/18/20
The Portrait
THE PORTRAIT
O LORD of all compassionate control,
O Love! let this my lady's picture glow
⁠Under my hand to praise her name, and show
Even of her inner self the perfect whole:
That he who seeks her beauty's furthest goal,
⁠Beyond the light that the sweet glances throw
⁠And refluent wave of the sweet smile, may know
The very sky and sea-line of her soul.
Lo! it is done. Above the enthroning throat
⁠The mouth's mould testifies of voice and kiss,
⁠⁠The shadowed eyes remember and foresee.
Her face is made her shrine. Let all men note
⁠That in all years (O Love, thy gift is this!)
⁠⁠They that would look on her must come to me.
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Pictures &; poems — Pandora
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Exported from Wikisource on 03/18/20
Pandora
PANDORA
WHAT of the end, Pandora? Was it thine,
The deed that set these fiery pinions free?
⁠Ah! wherefore did the Olympian consistory
In its own likeness make thee half divine?
Was it that Juno's brow might stand a sign
For ever and the mien of Pallas be
⁠A deadly thing? and that all men might see
In Venus' eyes the gaze of Proserpine?
What of the end? These beat their wings at will,
The ill-born things, the good things turned to ill,—
⁠Powers of the impassioned hours prohibited.
Aye, clench the casket now! Whither they go
Thou mayst not dare to think: nor canst thou know
⁠If Hope still pent there be alive or dead.
About this digital edition
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We distribute our books for free, starting from works not copyrighted or published under a free license. You are free to use our e-books for any purpose (including commercial exploitation), under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported[2] license or, at your choice, those of the GNU FDL[3].
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Pictures &; poems — Mary Magdalene
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Exported from Wikisource on 03/18/20
Mary Magdalene
At the Door of Simon the Pharisee
MARY MAGDALENE
At the Door of Simon the Pharisee
"WHY wilt thou cast the roses from thine hair?
Nay, be thou all a rose,—wreath, lips, and cheek.
⁠Nay, not this house,—that banquet-house we seek;
See how they kiss and enter; come thou there.
This delicate day of love we two will share
⁠Till at our ear love's whispering night shall speak.
⁠What, sweet one,—hold'st thou still the foolish freak?
Nay, when I kiss thy feet they 'll leave the stair."
"Oh loose me! Seest thou not my Bridegroom's face
⁠That draws me to Him? For His feet my kiss,
⁠⁠My hair, my tears He craves to-day:—and oh!
What words can tell what other day and place
⁠Shall see me clasp those blood-stained feet of His?
⁠⁠He needs me, calls me, loves me: let me go!"
About this digital edition
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We distribute our books for free, starting from works not copyrighted or published under a free license. You are free to use our e-books for any purpose (including commercial exploitation), under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported[2] license or, at your choice, those of the GNU FDL[3].
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Pictures &; poems — Proserpina
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Exported from Wikisource on 03/18/20
Proserpina
PROSERPINA
AFAR away the light that brings cold cheer
Unto this wall,—one instant and no more
⁠Admitted at my distant palace-door.
Afar the flowers of Enna from this drear
Dire fruit, which, tasted once, must thrall me here.
⁠Afar those skies from this Tartarean grey
⁠That chills me: and afar, how far away,
The nights that shall be from the days that were.
Afar from mine own self I seem, and wing
⁠Strange ways in thought, and listen for a sign:
⁠And still some heart unto some soul doth pine,
(Whose sounds mine inner sense is fain to bring,
Continually together murmuring,)—
⁠"Woe's me for thee, unhappy Proserpine!"
About this digital edition
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We distribute our books for free, starting from works not copyrighted or published under a free license. You are free to use our e-books for any purpose (including commercial exploitation), under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported[2] license or, at your choice, those of the GNU FDL[3].
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Pictures &; poems — Cassandra
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Exported from Wikisource on 03/18/20
Cassandra
CASSANDRA
I
REND, rend thy hair, Cassandra: he will go.⁠⁠⁠
Yea, rend thy garments, wring thy hands, and cry
⁠From Troy still towered to the unreddened sky.
See, all but she that bore thee mock thy woe:—
He most whom that fair woman arms, with show
⁠Of wrath on her bent brows; for in this place
⁠This hour thou bad'st all men in Helen's face
The ravished ravishing prize of Death to know.
What eyes, what ears hath sweet Andromache,
⁠Save for her Hector's form and step; as tear
⁠⁠On tear make salt the warm last kiss he gave?
He goes. Cassandra's words beat heavily
⁠Like crows above his crest, and at his ear
⁠⁠Ring hollow in the shield that shall not save.
II
"O Hector, gone, gone, gone! O Hector, thee
⁠Two chariots wait, in Troy long bless'd and curs'd;
⁠And Grecian spear and Phrygian sand athirst
Crave from thy veins the blood of victory.
Lo! long upon our hearth the brand had we,
⁠Lit for the roof-tree's ruin: and to-day
⁠The ground-stone quits the wall,—the wind hath way.—
And higher and higher the wings of fire are free.
O Paris, Paris! O thou burning brand,
⁠Thou beacon of the sea whence Venus rose,
Lighting thy race to shipwreck! Even that hand
⁠Wherewith she took thine apple let her close
⁠Within thy curls at last, and while Troy glows
Lift thee her trophy to the sea and land."
About this digital edition
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We distribute our books for free, starting from works not copyrighted or published under a free license. You are free to use our e-books for any purpose (including commercial exploitation), under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported[2] license or, at your choice, those of the GNU FDL[3].
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Pictures &; poems — Astarte Syriaca
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Exported from Wikisource on 03/18/20
Astarte Syriaca
ASTARTE SYRIACA
MYSTERY: lo! betwixt the sun and moon
Astarte of the Syrians: Venus Queen
⁠Ere Aphrodite was. In silver sheen
Her twofold girdle clasps the infinite boon
Of bliss whereof the heaven and earth commune:
⁠And from her neck's inclining flower-stem lean
Love-freighted lips and absolute eyes that wean
The pulse of hearts to the spheres' dominant tune.
Torch-bearing, her sweet ministers compel
⁠All thrones of light beyond the sky and sea
⁠The witnesses of Beauty's face to be:
That face, of Love's all-penetrative spell
Amulet, talisman, and oracle,—
⁠Betwixt the sun and moon a mystery.
About this digital edition
This e-book comes from the online library Wikisource[1]. This multilingual digital library, built by volunteers, is committed to developing a free accessible collection of publications of every kind: novels, poems, magazines, letters...
We distribute our books for free, starting from works not copyrighted or published under a free license. You are free to use our e-books for any purpose (including commercial exploitation), under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported[2] license or, at your choice, those of the GNU FDL[3].
Wikisource is constantly looking for new members. During the realization of this book, it's possible that we made some errors. You can report them at this page[4].
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Pictures &; poems — A Sea-Spell
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Exported from Wikisource on 03/18/20
A Sea-Spell
A SEA-SPELL
HER lute hangs shadowed in the apple-tree,⁠⁠⁠
While flashing fingers weave the sweet-strung spell
⁠Between its chords; and as the wild notes swell,
The sea-bird for those branches leaves the sea.
But to what sound her listening ear stoops she?
⁠What netherworld gulf-whispers doth she hear,
⁠In answering echoes from what planisphere,
Along the wind, along the estuary?
She sinks into her spell: and when full soon
⁠Her lips move and she soars into her song,
⁠What creatures of the midmost main shall throng
In furrowed surf-clouds to the summoning rune:
⁠Till he, the fated mariner, hears her cry,
⁠And up her rock, bare-breasted, comes to die?
About this digital edition
This e-book comes from the online library Wikisource[1]. This multilingual digital library, built by volunteers, is committed to developing a free accessible collection of publications of every kind: novels, poems, magazines, letters...
We distribute our books for free, starting from works not copyrighted or published under a free license. You are free to use our e-books for any purpose (including commercial exploitation), under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported[2] license or, at your choice, those of the GNU FDL[3].
Wikisource is constantly looking for new members. During the realization of this book, it's possible that we made some errors. You can report them at this page[4].
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Pictures &; poems — Fiammetta
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Exported from Wikisource on 03/18/20
Fiammetta
FIAMMETTA
BEHOLD Fiammetta, shown in Vision here.⁠⁠⁠⁠
Gloom-girt 'mid Spring-flushed apple-growth she stands;
⁠And as she sways the branches with her hands,
Along her arm the sundered bloom falls sheer,
In separate petals shed, each like a tear;
⁠While from the quivering bough the bird expands
⁠His wings. And lo! thy spirit understands
Life shaken and shower'd and flown, and Death drawn near.
All stirs with change. Her garments beat the air:
⁠The angel circling round her aureole
⁠Shimmers in flight against the tree's grey bole:
While she, with reassuring eyes most fair,
A presage and a promise stands; as 'twere
⁠On Death's dark storm the rainbow of the Soul.
About this digital edition
This e-book comes from the online library Wikisource[1]. This multilingual digital library, built by volunteers, is committed to developing a free accessible collection of publications of every kind: novels, poems, magazines, letters...
We distribute our books for free, starting from works not copyrighted or published under a free license. You are free to use our e-books for any purpose (including commercial exploitation), under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported[2] license or, at your choice, those of the GNU FDL[3].
Wikisource is constantly looking for new members. During the realization of this book, it's possible that we made some errors. You can report them at this page[4].
The following users contributed to this book:
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Pictures &; poems — The Day-Dream
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Exported from Wikisource on 03/18/20
The Day-Dream
THE DAY-DREAM
THE thronged boughs of the shadowy sycamore
Still bear young leaflets half the summer through;
⁠From when the robin 'gainst the unhidden blue
Perched dark, till now, deep in the leafy core,
The embowered throstle's urgent wood-notes soar
⁠Through summer silence. Still the leaves come new;
⁠Yet never rosy-sheathed as those which drew
Their spiral tongues from spring-buds heretofore.
Within the branching shade of Reverie
Dreams even may spring till autumn; yet none be
⁠Like woman's budding day-dream spirit-fann'd.
Lo, tow'rd deep skies, not deeper than her look,
She dreams; till now on her forgotten book
⁠Drops the forgotten blossom from her hand.
About this digital edition
This e-book comes from the online library Wikisource[1]. This multilingual digital library, built by volunteers, is committed to developing a free accessible collection of publications of every kind: novels, poems, magazines, letters...
We distribute our books for free, starting from works not copyrighted or published under a free license. You are free to use our e-books for any purpose (including commercial exploitation), under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported[2] license or, at your choice, those of the GNU FDL[3].
Wikisource is constantly looking for new members. During the realization of this book, it's possible that we made some errors. You can report them at this page[4].
The following users contributed to this book:
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Pictures &; poems — Mnemosyne
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Exported from Wikisource on 03/18/20
Mnemosyne
MNEMOSYNE
THOU fill'st from the winged chalice of the soul
Thy lamp, O Memory, fire-winged to its goal.
About this digital edition
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We distribute our books for free, starting from works not copyrighted or published under a free license. You are free to use our e-books for any purpose (including commercial exploitation), under the terms of the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported[2] license or, at your choice, those of the GNU FDL[3].
Wikisource is constantly looking for new members. During the realization of this book, it's possible that we made some errors. You can report them at this page[4].
The following users contributed to this book:
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Theornamentalist
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