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Cobwebs

Cobwebs


It is a land with neither night nor day,
Nor heat nor cold, nor any wind, nor rain,
Nor hills nor valleys; but one even plain
Stretches thro' long unbroken miles away:
While thro' the sluggish air a twilight grey
Broodeth; no moons or seasons wax and wane,
No ebb and flow are there among the main,
No bud-time no leaf-falling there for aye,
No ripple on the sea, no shifting sand,
No beat of wings to stir the stagnant space,
And loveless sea: no trace of days before,
No guarded home, no time-worn restingplace
No future hope no fear forevermore.
246

Brownie, Brownie, Let Down Your Milk

Brownie, Brownie, Let Down Your Milk

Brownie, Brownie, let down your milk
White as swansdown and smooth as silk,
Fresh as dew and pure as snow:
For I know where the cowslips blow,
And you shall have a cowslip wreath
No sweeter scented than your breath.
189

By The Waters Of Babylon

By The Waters Of Babylon

Here where I dwell I waste to skin and bone;
The curse is come upon me, and I waste
In penal torment powerless to atone.
The curse is come on me, which makes no haste
And doth not tarry, crushing both the proud
Hard man and him the sinner double-faced.
Look not upon me, for my soul is bowed
Within me, as my body in this mire;
My soul crawls dumb-struck, sore-bested and cowed.
As Sodom and Gomorrah scourged by fire,
As Jericho before God's trumpet-peal,
So we the elect ones perish in His ire.
Vainly we gird on sackcloth, vainly kneel
With famished faces toward Jerusalem:
His heart is shut against us not to feel,
His ears against our cry He shutteth them,
His hand He shorteneth that He will not save,
His law is loud against us to condemn:
And we, as unclean bodies in the grave
Inheriting corruption and the dark,
Are outcast from His presence which we crave.
Our Mercy hath departed from His Ark,
Our Glory hath departed from His rest,
Our Shield hath left us naked as a mark
Unto all pitiless eyes made manifest.
Our very Father hath forsaken us,
Our God hath cast us from Him: we oppressed
Unto our foes are even marvellous,
A hissing and a butt for pointing hands,
Whilst God Almighty hunts and grinds us thus;
For He hath scattered us in alien lands,
Our priests, our princes, our anointed king,
And bound us hand and foot with brazen bands.
Here while I sit my painful heart takes wing
Home to the home-land I must see no more,
Where milk and honey flow, where waters spring
And fail not, where I dwelt in days of yore
Under my fig-tree and my fruitful vine,
There where my parents dwelt at ease before:
Now strangers press the olives that are mine,
Reap all the corners of my harvest-field,
And make their fat hearts wanton with my wine;
To them my trees, to them my garden yield
Their sweets and spices and their tender green,
O'er them in noontide heat outspread their shield.
Yet these are they whose fathers had not been
Housed with my dogs, whom hip and thigh we smote
And with their blood washed their pollutions clean,
Purging the land which spewed them from its throat;
Their daughters took we for a pleasant prey,
Choice tender ones on whom the fathers doat.
Now they in turn have led our own away;



Our daughters and our sisters and our wives
Sore weeping as they weep who curse the day,
To live, remote from help, dishonoured lives,
Soothing their drunken masters with a song,
Or dancing in their golden tinkling gyves:
Accurst if they remember through the long
Estrangement of their exile, twice accursed
If they forget and join the accursed throng.
How doth my heart that is so wrung not burst
When I remember that my way was plain,
And that God's candle lit me at the first,
Whilst now I grope in darkness, grope in vain,
Desiring but to find Him Who is lost,
To find Him once again, but once again.
His wrath came on us to the uttermost,
His covenanted and most righteous wrath:
Yet this is He of Whom we made our boast,
Who lit the Fiery Pillar in our path,
Who swept the Red Sea dry before our feet,
Who in His jealousy smote kings, and hath
Sworn once to David: One shall fill thy seat
Born of thy body, as the sun and moon
'Stablished for aye in sovereignty complete.
O Lord, remember David, and that soon.
The Glory hath departed, Ichabod!
Yet now, before our sun grow dark at noon,
Before we come to nought beneath Thy rod,
Before we go down quick into the pit,
Remember us for good, O God, our God:—
Thy Name will I remember, praising it,
Though Thou forget me, though Thou hide Thy face,
And blot me from the Book which Thou hast writ;
Thy Name will I remember in my praise
And call to mind Thy faithfulness of old,
Though as a weaver Thou cut off my days,
And end me as a tale ends that is told.
206

Bride Song

Bride Song

From 'The Prince's Progress'

TOO late for love, too late for joy,
Too late, too late!

You loiter'd on the road too long,
You trifled at the gate:

The enchanted dove upon her branch
Died without a mate;

The enchanted princess in her tower
Slept, died, behind the grate;

Her heart was starving all this while
You made it wait.

Ten years ago, five years ago,
One year ago,

Even then you had arrived in time,
Though somewhat slow;

Then you had known her living face
Which now you cannot know:

The frozen fountain would have leap'd,
The buds gone on to blow,

The warm south wind would have awaked
To melt the snow.

Is she fair now as she lies?
Once she was fair;

Meet queen for any kingly king,
With gold-dust on her hair.

Now there are poppies in her locks,
White poppies she must wear;

Must wear a veil to shroud her face
And the want graven there:

Or is the hunger fed at length,
Cast off the care?

We never saw her with a smile
Or with a frown;

Her bed seem'd never soft to her,
Though toss'd of down;

She little heeded what she wore,
Kirtle, or wreath, or gown;

We think her white brows often ached
Beneath her crown,

Till silvery hairs show'd in her locks
That used to be so brown.

We never heard her speak in haste:
Her tones were sweet,

And modulated just so much
As it was meet:

Her heart sat silent through the noise
And concourse of the street.


There was no hurry in her hands,
No hurry in her feet;

There was no bliss drew nigh to her,
That she might run to greet.

You should have wept her yesterday,
Wasting upon her bed:

But wherefore should you weep to-day
That she is dead?

Lo, we who love weep not to-day,
But crown her royal head.

Let be these poppies that we strew,
Your roses are too red:

Let be these poppies, not for you
Cut down and spread.
271

Boats Sail On The Rivers

Boats Sail On The Rivers

Boats sail on the rivers,
And ships sail on the seas;
But clouds that sail across the sky
Are prettier far than these.
There are bridges on the rivers,
As pretty as you please;
But the bow that bridges heaven,
And overtops the trees,
And builds a road from earth to sky,
Is prettier far than these.
250

Bird Or Beast?

Bird Or Beast?

Did any bird come flying
After Adam and Eve,
When the door was shut against them
And they sat down to grieve?


I think not Eve's peacock
Splendid to see,
And I think not Adam's eagle;
But a dove may be.


Did any beast come pushing
Through the thorny hedge
Into the thorny thistly world,
Out from Eden's edge?


I think not a lion,
Though his strength is such;
But an innocent loving lamb
May have done as much.


If the dove preached from her bough
and the lamb from his sod,
The lamb and dove
Were preachers sent from God.
190

Bitter For Sweet

Bitter For Sweet

Summer is gone with all its roses,
Its sun and perfumes and sweet flowers,
Its warm air and refreshing showers:
And even Autumn closes.


Yea, Autumn's chilly self is going,
And winter comes which is yet colder;
Each day the hoar-frost waxes bolder,
And the last buds cease blowing.
256

Before The Paling Of The Stars

Before The Paling Of The Stars

Before the winter morn,
Before the earliest cock crow,
Jesus Christ was born:
Born in a stable,
Cradled in a manger,
In the world his hands had made
Born a stranger.


Priest and king lay fast asleep
In Jerusalem;
Young and old lay fast asleep
In crowded Bethlehem;
Saint and angel, ox and ass,
Kept a watch together
Before the Christmas daybreak
In the winter weather.


Jesus on his mother's breast
In the stable cold,
Spotless lamb of God was he,
Shepherd of the fold:
Let us kneel with Mary maid,
With Joseph bent and hoary,
With saint and angel, ox and ass,
To hail the King of Glory.
204

Baby Lies So Fast Asleep

Baby Lies So Fast Asleep

Baby lies so fast asleep
That we cannot wake her:
Will the angels clad in white
Fly from heaven to take her?
Baby lies so fast asleep
That no pain can grieve her;
Put a snowdrop in her hand,
Kiss her once and leave her.
231

Autumn Violets

Autumn Violets

Keep love for youth, and violets for the spring:
Of if these bloom when worn-out autumn grieves,
Let them lie hid in double shade of leaves,
Their own, and others dropped down withering;
For violets suit when home birds build and sing,
Not when the outbound bird a passage cleaves;
Not with dry stubble of mown harvest sheaves,
But when the green world buds to blossoming.
Keep violets for the spring, and love for youth,
Love that should dwell with beauty, mirth, and hope:
Or if a later sadder love be born,
Let this not look for grace beyond its scope,
But give itself, nor plead for answering truth—
A grateful Ruth tho' gleaning scanty corn.
298

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Identification and basic context

Christina Georgina Rossetti was a prominent English poet of Italian heritage. She is celebrated for her lyrical and devotional poetry, which often delves into themes of love, death, faith, and the transient beauty of the natural world. As a key figure of the Victorian era, her work stands out for its profound spiritual intensity and its exquisite musicality. Her contributions to English literature are substantial, with poems such as 'Goblin Market' and 'Remember' remaining widely read and studied.

Childhood and education

Born into an intellectual and artistic family, Christina Rossetti had an upbringing steeped in literature and religious devotion. Her father, Gabriele Rossetti, was an Italian poet and scholar, and her mother, Frances Polidori Rossetti, was of English and Italian descent. Her siblings included Dante Gabriel Rossetti, a prominent artist and poet, and William Michael Rossetti, an art critic and writer. Christina received her early education at home, where she was tutored by her mother and elder siblings. This environment fostered her early interest in poetry and literature. Her family's strong Anglo-Italian heritage and their devout Christian faith profoundly influenced her formative years and the subsequent themes in her work.

Literary trajectory

Rossetti's literary career began in her teenage years, with early poems circulating among her family and friends. Her first published volume, 'Verses,' appeared in 1847, a collection of poems written between the ages of 12 and 17. She later became associated with the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, primarily through her brother Dante Gabriel. Her most famous work, 'Goblin Market and Other Poems,' was published in 1862 to considerable acclaim, establishing her reputation as a major poet. Throughout her life, she continued to write poetry, devotional prose, and children's verse. Her trajectory was marked by periods of intense creative output interspersed with periods of relative quietude, often influenced by her spiritual convictions and personal circumstances.

Works, style, and literary characteristics

Rossetti's major works include 'Goblin Market and Other Poems' (1862), 'The Prince's Progress and Other Poems' (1866), 'Sing-Song: A Nursery Rhyme Book' (1872), and the devotional prose work 'Called to Be Saints' (1881). Her dominant themes include love (both earthly and divine), death, faith, renunciation, temptation, and the beauty and decay of the natural world. Her style is characterized by its lyrical beauty, rich imagery, and strong musicality, often employing symbolism and allegory. She was adept at using varied forms, from sonnets to ballads and nursery rhymes, often experimenting with rhythm and rhyme to create striking effects. Her poetic voice is often introspective, devotional, and deeply emotional, conveying a sense of yearning and spiritual longing. The language is precise yet evocative, rich with sensory detail. Rossetti's work often engages with religious themes, exploring the complexities of faith, doubt, and salvation with a unique blend of personal conviction and poetic artistry.

Cultural and historical context

Christina Rossetti lived during the Victorian era, a period of significant social, religious, and industrial change in Britain. Her work often reflects the religious fervor and the debates surrounding faith and doubt prevalent at the time. Her association with the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood placed her within a significant artistic movement that sought to revive medieval aesthetics and emphasize sincerity and imaginative richness. Her poetry engaged with contemporary issues of social reform and the role of women, though often through a lens of Christian morality and personal introspection. She was a contemporary of poets like Alfred Lord Tennyson and Elizabeth Barrett Browning, and her work shares some thematic concerns with theirs, yet possesses a distinctively personal and spiritual quality.

Personal life

Rossetti's personal life was deeply shaped by her devout religious faith, particularly her adherence to the High Church Anglican tradition. This faith led her to twice refuse marriage proposals from men she loved, believing that her spiritual calling superseded earthly attachments. She suffered from various illnesses throughout her life, including Graves' disease, which often limited her activities but also provided subject matter for her contemplative poetry. Her relationship with her family, especially her mother and siblings, was close and supportive, providing a stable anchor in her life. Her dedication to charitable work, particularly with the Magdalen Hospital for fallen women, reflected her compassionate nature and her deep-seated desire to help those in need.

Recognition and reception

Christina Rossetti achieved significant recognition during her lifetime, with 'Goblin Market' being particularly well-received. She was regarded as one of the foremost poets of her day, and her work was admired for its originality, spiritual depth, and lyrical skill. Posthumously, her reputation has continued to flourish. While at times overshadowed by her brother Dante Gabriel, her distinct voice and thematic concerns have secured her a prominent place in the canon of English literature. Her works are widely anthologized and studied for their exploration of faith, love, and the female experience in the Victorian era.

Influences and legacy

Rossetti was influenced by the Bible, devotional writers such as Thomas à Kempis, and poets like George Herbert and John Keats. Her own poetry has had a lasting influence on subsequent generations of poets, particularly in the areas of devotional verse, children's literature, and symbolic poetry. Her exploration of themes related to temptation, sacrifice, and spiritual longing has resonated with many writers. She is also recognized for her significant contributions to the genre of nursery rhymes and children's verse. Her legacy is firmly established through her enduring poems, which continue to be celebrated for their beauty, emotional resonance, and spiritual insight.

Interpretation and critical analysis

Rossetti's poetry is often analyzed for its complex interplay of spiritual and sensual themes. Her poems exploring love and desire are frequently interpreted through the lens of her religious renunciation, leading to discussions about the tension between earthly and divine love. The allegorical nature of 'Goblin Market' has invited numerous critical interpretations, ranging from explorations of female sexuality and temptation to critiques of consumerism and industrialization. Her engagement with themes of death and eternity is also a significant focus of critical study, revealing a profound theological and existential depth.

Curiosities and lesser-known aspects

Despite her fame, Christina Rossetti was a remarkably private individual. Her deep faith meant she often struggled with worldly temptations, and her poetry reflects this inner conflict. She had a particular affinity for animals and often wrote about them. Her dedication to her religious convictions sometimes led to difficult personal choices, such as refusing marriage. Her creative process was deeply tied to her spiritual life, often involving prayer and contemplation.

Death and memory

Christina Rossetti died in 1894 from breast cancer. She was buried in Highgate Cemetery, London. Her death was mourned by many who recognized her immense contribution to English poetry. Posthumous collections of her work continued to be published, ensuring her enduring place in literary history. Her memory is preserved through the timeless beauty and spiritual depth of her verse.