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Address To The Dalziel Brothers

“O WOODMAN, spare that block,

Oh gash not anyhow!

It took ten days by clock,

I'd fain protect it now.”

Chorus—Wild Laughter from Dalziel's Workshop.

by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

An Old Song Ended

“How should I your true love know

From another one?”

“By his cockle-hat and staff

And his sandal-shoon.”

“And what signs have told you now

That he hastens home?”

“Lo! the spring is nearly gone,

He is nearly come.”

by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

A Foretaste

AT length the then of my long hope was now;

Yet had my spirit an extreme unrest:

I knew the good from better was grown best

At length, but could not just as yet tell how.

So I lay straight along, and thrust my brow

Under the heights of grass. Hours struck. The West,

I knew, must be at change; but gazed not, lest

The heat against my naked face (no bough

by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Afterwards

SHE opened her moist crimson lips to sing;

And from her throat that is so white and full

The notes leaped like a fountain. A smooth lull

Was o'er my heart: as when—a viol—string

Having been broken—the first musical ring

Once over, all the rest is but a dull

Crude dissonance, howe'er thou twist and pull

The sundered fragments. A most weary thing

by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

A young Fir-Wood

THESE little firs to-day are things

To clasp into a giant's cap,

Or fans to suit his lady's lap.

From many winters many springs

Shall cherish them in strength and sap

Till they be marked upon the map,

A wood for the wind's wanderings.

All seed is in the sower's hands:

by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Antwerp And Bruges

I climbed the stair in Antwerp church,

What time the circling thews of sound

At sunset seem to heave it round.

Far up, the carillon did search

The wind, and the birds came to perch

Far under, where the gables wound.

In Antwerp harbour on the Scheldt

I stood along, a certain space

by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

An Altar-Flame

EVEN as when utter summer makes the grain

Bow heavily along through the whole land

It seems to me whatever while I stand

Where thou art standing; and upon my brain

Thy presence weighs like a most awful strain

Of music, heard in some cathedral fanned

With the deep breath of prayer, while the priest's hand

Uplifts the solemn sign which shall remain

by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Another Love

OF her I thought who now is gone so far:

And, the thought passing over, to fall thence

Was like a fall from spirit into sense

Or from the heaven of heavens to sun and star.

None other than Love's self ordained the bar

'Twixt her and me; so that if, going hence,

I met her, it could only seem a dense

Film of the brain,—just nought, as phantoms are.

by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

A Prayer

LADY, in thy proud eyes

There is a weary look,

As if the spirit we know through them

Were daunted with rebuke

To think that the heart of man henceforth

Is read like a read book.

Lady, in thy lifted face

The solitude is sore;

by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Aspecta Medusa (for a Drawing)

Andromeda, by Perseus sav'd and wed,

Hanker'd each day to see the Gorgon's head:

Till o'er a fount he held it, bade her lean,

And mirror'd in the wave was safely seen

That death she liv'd by.

Let not thine eyes know

Any forbidden thing itself, although

It once should save as well as kill: but be

by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Almost Over

YOU say I should not think upon her now:

But then I have stood beside her listening,

And watched her rose—breathed lips when she would sing:

And I can scarcely yet imagine how

I ever should despise that stately brow

And flowering breast that is so pure a thing.

Alas for all the weary blood—running

When from the heart love strives to tear a vow!

by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Insomnia

THIN are the night-skirts left behind

By daybreak hours that onward creep,

And thin, alas! the shred of sleep

That wavers with the spirit's wind:

But in half-dreams that shift and roll

And still remember and forget,

My soul this hour has drawn your soul

A little nearer yet.

by Dante Gabriel Rossetti