Category Archives: Poetry

Crocuses and snowdrops wither,
Violets, primroses together,
Fading with the fading Spring
Before a fuller blossoming.

O sweet Summer, pass not soon,
Stay awhile the harvest-moon :
O sweetest Summer, do not go,
For Autumn’s next and next the snow.

When Autumn comes the days are drear,
It is the downfall of the year :
We heed the wind and falling leaf
More than the golden harvest-sheaf.

Dreary Winter come at last :
Come quickly, so be quickly past :
Dusk and sluggish Winter, wane
Till Spring and sunlight dawn again.

Christina Georgina Rossetti
7 December 1853

If miracles are works of sweet control,
Couldn’t You, Lord Jesus, rearrange
Some elements in me enough to change
The water of indifference in my soul
To something more like wine, to make me whole.
The altered piece I’d play might come off strange
To those around me; still, its worth would hinge
On Your appreciation of the role.
Not theirs. Nor even mine. Yours alone.
But where are Your appraisals brought to light?
And where’s the stuff of miracles : the sight-
Restoring spittle-mud, the fingered gown?
Oh, I would love to live to love, to see.
Sweet Jesus, work a miracle in me.

Christopher FitzGerald.
Sonnets to the Unseen: A Life of Christ. Sonnet 94.

A is the Alphabet, A at its head ;
     A is an Antelope, agile to run.
B is the Baker Boy bringing his bread,
     Or black Bear and brown Bear, both begging for bun.

C is a Cornflower come with the corn ;
     C is a Cat with a comical look.
D is a dinner which Dahlias adorn ;
     D is a Duchess who dines with a Duke.

E is an elegant eloquent Earl ;
     E is an Egg whence an Eaglet emerges.
F is a Falcon, with feathers to furl ;
     F is a fountain of full foaming surges.

G is the Gander, the Gosling, the Goose ;
     G is a Garnet in girdle of gold.
H is a Heartsense, harmonious of hews ;
     H is a huge Hammer, heavy to hold.

I is an Idler who idles on ice ;
     I am I–who will say I am not I?
J is a Jacinth, a jewel of price ;
     J is a Jay, full of joy in July.

K is a King, or a Kaiser still higher ;
     K is a kitten, or quaint Kangaroo.
L is a Lute or a lovely-toned Lyre ;
     L is a Lily all laden with dew.

M is a Meadow where Meadowsweet blows ;
     M is a mountain made dim by a mist.
N is a nut–in a nutshell it grows–
     Or a Next full of Nightingales singing–oh list !

O is an Opal, with only one spark ;
     O is an Olive, with oil on its skin.
P is a Pony, a pet in a park ;
     P is the Point of a Pen or a Pin.

Q is a Quail, quick-chirping at morn ;
     Q is a Quince quite ripe and near dropping.
R is a Rose, rosy red on a thorn ;
     R is a red-breasted Robin come hopping.

S is a Snow-storm that sweeps o’er the Sea ;
     S is the Song that the swift Swallows sing.
T is the Tea-table set out for Tea ;
     T is a Tiger with terrible spring.

U, the Umbrella, went up in a shower ;
     Or Unit is useful with ten to unite.
V is a Violet veined in the flower ;
     V is a Viper of venemous bite.

W stands for the water-bred Whale–
     Stands for the wonderful Waxwork so gay.
X, or XX, or XXX, is ale,
     Or Policeman X, excercised day after day.

Y is a yellow Yacht, yellow its boat ;
     Y is the Yacca, the Yam, or the Yew.
Z is a Zebra, zigzaggèd his coat,
     Or Zebu, or Zoöphyte, seen at the Zoo.

Christina Georgina Rossetti
circa 1875

It flows through old hushed Egypt and its sands,
Like some grave mighty thought threading a dream,
And times and things, as in that vision, seem
Keeping along it their eternal stands,—
Caves, pillars, pyramids, the shepherd bands
That roamed through the young world, the glory extreme
Of high Sesostris, and that southern beam,
The laughing queen that caught the world’s great hands.

Then comes a mightier silence, stern and strong,
As of a world left empty of its throng,
And the void weighs on us; and then we wake,
And hear the fruitful stream lapsing along
‘Twixt villages, and think how we shall take
Our own calm journey on for human sake.

Leigh Hunt, 1818

Near Rome, in sight of St Peter’s

Long has the dew been dried on tree and lawn;
O’er man and beast a not unwelcome boon
Is shed, the languor of approaching noon;
To shady rest withdrawing or withdrawn
Mute are all creatures, as this couchant fawn,
Save insect-swarms that hum in air afloat,
Save that the Cock is crowing, a shrill note,
Startling and shrill as that which roused the dawn.
—Heard in that hour, or when, as now, the nerve
Shrinks from the note as from a mistimed thing,
Oft for a holy warning may it serve,
Charged with remembrance of his sudden sting,
His bitter tears, whose name the Papal Chair
And yon resplendent Church are proud to bear.

William Wordsworth
Memorials of a Tour in Italy, 1837, § VIII

Ulysses to Penelope

In a far distant land they dwell,
     Incomprehensible,
     Who love the shadow more than light,
     More than the sun the moon,
     Cool evening more than noon,
Pale silver more than gold that glitters bright,
     A dark cloud overhangs their land
          Like a mighty hand,
     Never moving from above it ;
     A cool shade and moist and dim,
     With a twilight purple rim,
          And they love it.
     And sometimes it giveth rain,
       But soon it ceaseth as before,
     And earth drieth up again,—
       Then the dews rise more and more,
       Till it filleth, dropping o’er ;
     But no forked lightnings flit,
     And no thunders roll in it.
     Through the land a river flows,
     With a sleepy sound it goes :
       Such a drowsy noise, in sooth,
          Those who will not listen hear not :
          But, if one is wakeful, fear not—
     It shall lull him to repose,
       Bringing back the dreams of youth.
     Hemlock groweth, poppy bloweth,
     In the fields where no man moweth :
     And the vine is full of wine
     And are full of milk the kine,
     And the hares are all secure,
     And the birds are wild no more,
     And the forest-trees wax old,
     And winds stir, or hot or cold,—
     And yet no man taketh care,
     All things resting everywhere.

Christina Georgina Rossetti
7 October 1847

Keen, fitful gusts are whisp’ring here and there
   Among the bushes half leafless, and dry ;
   The stars look very cold about the sky,
And I have many miles on foot to fare.
Yet feel I little of the cold bleak air,
   Or of the dead leaves rustling drearily,
   Or of those silver lamps that burn on high,
Or of the distance from home’s pleasant lair :
For I am brimfull of the friendliness
   That in a little cottage I have found ;
Of fair-hair’d Milton’s eloquent distress,
   And all his love for gentle Lycid drown’d ;
Of lovely Laura in her light green dress,
   And faithful Petrarch gloriously crown’d.

John Keats, 1817

At morn I plucked a rose and gave it Thee,
     A rose of joy and happy love and peace,
          A rose with scarce a thorn :
          But in the chillness of a second morn
     My rose bush drooped, and all its gay increase
Was but one thorn that wounded me.

I plucked the thorn and offered it to Thee,
     And for my thorn Thou gavest love and peace,
          Not joy this mortal morn :
          If Thou hast given much treasure for a thorn,
     Wilt Thou not give me for my rose increase
Of gladness, and all sweets to me?

My thorny rose, my love and pain, to Thee
     I offer ; and I set my heart in peace,
          And rest upon my thorn :
          For verily I think to-morrow morn
     Shall bring me Paradise, my gift’s increase,
Yea, give Thy very Self to me.

Christina Georgina Rossetti
“A Rose Plant in Jericho”
Dated before 1876

The Heavenly Circuit; Berenice’s Hair;
Tent-pole of Eden; the tent’s drapery;
Symbolical glory of the earth and air!
The Father and His angelic hierarchy
That made the multitude and glory there
Stood in the circuit of a needle’s eye.

Some found a different pole, and where it stood
A pattern on a napkin dipped in blood.

William Butler Yeats, 1933