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Christina Rossetti, death, in English Clear filters

SadChristina Rossetti

At Home

When I was dead, my spirit turned To seek the much-frequented house: I passed the door, and saw my friends Feasting beneath green orange boughs; From hand to hand they pushed the wine, They sucked the pulp of plum and peach; They sang, they jested, and they laughed, For each was loved of each. I listened to thier honest chat: Said one: "To-morrow we shall be Plod plod along the featureless sands, And coasting miles and miles of sea." Said one: "Before the turn of tide We will achieve the eyrie-seat." Said one: "To-morrow shall be like To-day, but much more sweet."
ContemplativeChristina Rossetti

The Thread of Life

I The irresponsive silence of the land, The irresponsive sounding of the sea, Speak both one message of one sense to me:-- Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so stand Thou too aloof bound with the flawless band Of inner solitude; we bind not thee; But who from thy self-chain shall set thee free? What heart shall touch thy heart? what hand thy hand?-- And I am sometimes proud and sometimes meek, And sometimes I remember days of old When fellowship seemed not so far to seek And all the world and I seemed much less cold, And at the rainbow's foot lay surely gold, And hope felt strong and life itself not weak. II
ContemplativeChristina Rossetti

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.

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