Classic and Contemporary Poetry
WHAT SAPPHO WOULD HAVE SAID .. LEAP CURED INSTEAD OF KILLING, by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: Love, love, that having found a heart Last Line: Fill me and make me wholly thine. Alternate Author Name(s): Alleyne, Ellen; Rossetti, Christina Subject(s): Flowers; Hate; Hearts; Love; Time | ||||||||
Love, Love, that having found a heart And left it, leav'st it desolate; -- Love, Love, that art more strong than Hate, More lasting and more full of art; -- O blessed Love, return, return, Brighten the flame that needs must burn. Among the stately lilies pale, Among the roses flushing red, I seek a flower meet for my head, A wreath wherewith to bind my veil: I seek in vain; a shadow-pain Lies on my heart; and all in vain. The rose hath too much life in it; The lily is too much at rest. Surely a blighted rose were best, Or cankered lily flower more fit; Or purple violet, withering While yet the year is in its spring. I walk down by the river side Where the low willows touch the stream; Beneath the ripple and sun-gleam The slippery cold fishes glide, Where flags and reeds and rushes lave Their roots in the unsullied wave. Methinks this is a drowsy place: Disturb me not; I fain would sleep: The very winds and waters keep Their voices under; and the race Of Time seems to stand still, for here Is night or twilight all the year. A very holy hushedness Broods here for ever: like a dove That, having built its nest above A quiet place, feels the excess Of calm sufficient, and would fain Not wake, but drowse on without pain. And slumbering on its mossy nest Haply hath dreams of pleasant Spring; And in its vision prunes its wing And takes swift flight, yet is at rest. Yea, is at rest: and still the calm Is wrapped around it like a charm. I would have quiet too in truth, And here will sojourn for a while. Lo; I have wandered many a mile, Till I am foot-sore in my youth. I will lie down; and quite forget The doubts and fears that haunt me yet. My pillow underneath my head Shall be green grass; thick fragrant leaves My canopy; the spider weaves Meet curtains for my narrow bed; And the dew can but cool my brow That is so dry and burning now. Ah, would that it could reach my heart, And fill the void that is so dry And aches and aches; -- but what am I To shrink from my self-purchased part? It is in vain; is all in vain; I must go forth and bear my pain. Must bear my pain, till Love shall turn To me in pity and come back. His footsteps left a smouldering track When he went forth, that still doth burn. Oh come again, thou pain divine, Fill me and make me wholly thine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ELEVEN EYES: FINAL SECTION by LYN HEJINIAN THE FATALIST: COME OCTOBER by LYN HEJINIAN THE FATALIST: HOME by LYN HEJINIAN THE FATALIST: TIME IS FILLED by LYN HEJINIAN SLOWLY: I FREQUENTLY SLOWLY WISH by LYN HEJINIAN ALL THE DIFFICULT HOURS AND MINUTES by JANE HIRSHFIELD A DAY IS VAST by JANE HIRSHFIELD FROM THIS HEIGHT by TONY HOAGLAND IT IS FINISHED' by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI ITALIA, IO TI SALUTO!' by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI THE HEART KNOWETH ITS OWN BITTERNESS' (2) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI |
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