Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE DEAD CITY, by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Once I rambled in a wood Last Line: And I straightway knelt and prayed. Alternate Author Name(s): Alleyne, Ellen; Rossetti, Christina Subject(s): Cities; Death; Fear; Forests; Grief; Urban Life; Dead, The; Woods; Sorrow; Sadness | ||||||||
Once I rambled in a wood With a careless hardihood, Heeding not the tangled way; Labyrinths around me lay, But for them I never stood. On, still on, I wandered on, And the sun above me shone; And the birds around me winging With their everlasting singing Made me feel not quite alone. In the branches of the trees, Murmured like the hum of bees The low sound of happy breezes, Whose sweet voice that never ceases Lulls the heart to perfect ease. Streamlets bubbled all around On the green and fertile ground, Thro' the rushes and the grass, Like a sheet of liquid glass, With a soft and trickling sound. And I went, I went on faster, Contemplating no disaster; And I plucked ripe blackberries, But the birds with envious eyes Came and stole them from their master: For the birds here were all tame; Some with bodies like a flame, Some that glanced the branches thro' Pure and colourless as dew; Fearlessly to me they came. Before me no mortal stood In the mazes of that wood; Before me the birds had never Seen a man, but dwelt for ever In a happy solitude; Happy solitude, and blest With beatitude of rest; Where the woods are ever vernal, And the life and joy eternal, Without Death's or Sorrow's test. Oh most blessed solitude! Oh most full beatitude! Where are quiet without strife, And imperishable life, Nothing marred, and all things good. And the bright sun, life begetting, Never rising, never setting, Shining warmly overhead, Nor too pallid, nor too red, Lulled me to a sweet forgetting, Sweet forgetting of the time: And I listened for no chime Which might warn me to begone; But I wandered on, still on, 'Neath the boughs of oak and lime. Know I not how long I strayed In the pleasant leafy shade; But the trees had gradually Grown more rare, the air more free, The sun hotter overhead. Soon the birds no more were seen Glancing thro' the living green; And a blight had passed upon All the trees; and the pale sun Shone with a strange lurid sheen. Then a darkness spread around: I saw nought, I heard no sound; Solid darkness overhead, With a trembling cautious tread Passed I o'er the unseen ground. But at length a pallid light Broke upon my searching sight; A pale solitary ray, Like a star at dawn of day Ere the sun is hot and bright. Towards its faintly glimmering beam I went on as in a dream; A strange dream of hope and fear! And I saw as I drew near 'Twas in truth no planet's gleam; But a lamp above a gate Shone in solitary state O'er a desert drear and cold, O'er a heap of ruins old, O'er a scene most desolate. By that gate I entered lone A fair city of white stone; And a lovely light to see Dawned, and spread most gradually Till the air grew warm and shone. Thro' the splendid streets I strayed In that radiance without shade, Yet I heard no human sound; All was still and silent round As a city of the dead. All the doors were open wide; Lattices on every side In the wind swung to and fro; Wind that whispered very low: Go and see the end of pride. With a fixed determination Entered I each habitation, But they all were tenantless; All was utter loneliness, All was deathless desolation. In the noiseless market-place Was no care-worn busy face; There were none to buy or sell, None to listen or to tell, In this silent emptiness. Thro' the city on I went Full of awe and wonderment; Still the light around me shone, And I wandered on, still on, In my great astonishment, Till at length I reached a place Where amid an ample space Rose a palace for a king; Golden was the turreting, And of solid gold the base. The great porch was ivory, And the steps were ebony; Diamond and chrysoprase Set the pillars in a blaze, Capitalled with jewelry. None was there to bar my way -- And the breezes seemed to say: Touch not these, but pass them by, Pressing onwards: therefore I Entered in and made no stay. All around was desolate: I went on; a silent state Reigned in each deserted room, And I hastened thro' the gloom Till I reached an outer gate. Soon a shady avenue Blossom-perfumed, met my view. Here and there the sun-beams fell On pure founts, whose sudden swell Up from marble basins flew. Every tree was fresh and green; Not a withered leaf was seen Thro' the veil of flowers and fruit; Strong and sapful were the root, The top boughs, and all between. Vines were climbing everywhere Full of purple grapes and fair: And far off I saw the corn With its heavy head down borne, By the odour-laden air. Who shall strip the bending vine? Who shall tread the press for wine? Who shall bring the harvest in When the pallid ears begin In the sun to glow and shine? On I went, alone, alone, Till I saw a tent that shone With each bright and lustrous hue; It was trimmed with jewels too, And with flowers; not one was gone. Then the breezes whispered me: Enter in, and look, and see How for luxury and pride A great multitude have died: -- And I entered tremblingly. Lo, a splendid banquet laid In the cool and pleasant shade. Mighty tables, every thing Of sweet Nature's furnishing That was rich and rare, displayed; And each strange and luscious cate Practised Art makes delicate; With a thousand fair devices Full of odours and of spices; And a warm voluptuous state. All the vessels were of gold Set with gems of worth untold. In the midst a fountain rose Of pure milk, whose rippling flows In a silver basin rolled. In green emerald baskets were Sun-red apples, streaked, and fair; Here the nectarine and peach And ripe plum lay, and on each The bloom rested every where. Grapes were hanging overhead, Purple, pale, and ruby-red; And in panniers all around Yellow melons shone, fresh found, With the dew upon them spread. And the apricot and pear And the pulpy fig were there; Cherries and dark mulberries, Bunchy currants, strawberries, And the lemon wan and fair. And unnumbered others too, Fruits of every size and hue, Juicy in their ripe perfection, Cool beneath the cool reflection Of the curtains' skyey blue. All the floor was strewn with flowers Fresh from sunshine and from showers, Roses, lilies, jessamine; And the ivy ran between Like a thought in happy hours. And this feast too lacked no guest With its warm delicious rest; With its couches softly sinking, And its glow, not made for thinking, But for careless joy at best. Many banquetters were there, Wrinkled age, the young, the fair; In the splendid revelry Flushing cheek and kindling eye Told of gladness without care. Yet no laughter rang around, Yet they uttered forth no sound; With the smile upon his face Each sat moveless in his place, Silently, as if spell-bound. The low whispering voice was gone, And I felt awed and alone. In my great astonishment To the feasters up I went -- Lo, they all were turned to stone. Yea they all were statue-cold, Men and women, young and old; With the life-like look and smile And the flush; and all the while The hard fingers kept their hold. Here a little child was sitting With a merry glance, befitting Happy age and heedless heart; There a young man sat apart With a forward look unweeting. Nigh them was a maiden fair; And the ringlets of her hair Round her slender fingers twined; And she blushed as she reclined, Knowing that her love was there. Here a dead man sat to sup, In his hand a drinking cup; Wine cup of the heavy gold, Human hand stony and cold, And no life-breath struggling up. There a mother lay, and smiled Down upon her infant child; Happy child and happy mother Laughing back to one another With a gladness undefiled. Here an old man slept, worn out With the revelry and rout; Here a strong man sat and gazed On a girl, whose eyes upraised No more wandered round about. And none broke the stillness, none; I was the sole living one. And methought that silently Many seemed to look on me With strange stedfast eyes that shone. Full of fear I would have fled; Full of fear I bent my head, Shutting out each stony guest: -- When I looked again the feast And the tent had vanished. Yes, once more I stood alone Where the happy sunlight shone And a gentle wind was sighing, And the little birds were flying, And the dreariness was gone. All these things that I have said Awed me, and made me afraid. What was I that I should see So much hidden mystery? 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