Poems by Christina Georgina Rossetti Part 4

Lean on me, hide thine eyes: Only ourselves, earth and skies, Are present here: be wise.

GHOST.

Lean on me, come away, I will guide and steady: Come, for I will not stay: Come, for house and bed are ready.

Ah, sure bed and house, For better and worse, for life and death: Goal won with shortened breath: Come, crown our vows.

BRIDE.

One moment, one more word, While my heart beats still, While my breath is stirred By my fainting will.

O friend forsake me not, Forget not as I forgot: But keep thy heart for me, Keep thy faith true and bright; Through the lone cold winter night Perhaps I may come to thee.

BRIDEGROOM.

Nay, peace, my darling, peace: Let these dreams and terrors cease: Who spoke of death or change or aught but ease?

GHOST.

O fair frail sin, O poor harvest gathered in!

Thou shalt visit him again To watch his heart grow cold; To know the gnawing pain I knew of old; To see one much more fair Fill up the vacant chair, Fill his heart, his children bear:-- While thou and I together In the outcast weather Toss and howl and spin.

A SUMMER WISH.

Live all thy sweet life through Sweet Rose, dew-sprent, Drop down thine evening dew To gather it anew When day is bright: I fancy thou wast meant Chiefly to give delight.

Sing in the silent sky, Glad soaring bird; Sing out thy notes on high To sunbeam straying by Or pa.s.sing cloud; Heedless if thou art heard Sing thy full song aloud.

O that it were with me As with the flower; Blooming on its own tree For b.u.t.terfly and bee Its summer morns: That I might bloom mine hour A rose in spite of thorns.

O that my work were done As birds' that soar Rejoicing in the sun: That when my time is run And daylight too, I so might rest once more Cool with refreshing dew.

AN APPLE GATHERING.

I plucked pink blossoms from mine apple-tree, And wore them all that evening in my hair: Then in due season when I went to see I found no apples there.

With dangling basket all along the gra.s.s As I had come I went the selfsame track: My neighbors mocked me while they saw me pa.s.s So empty-handed back.

Lilian and Lilias smiled in trudging by, Their heaped-up basket teased me like a jeer; Sweet-voiced they sang beneath the sunset sky, Their mother's home was near.

Plump Gertrude pa.s.sed me with her basket full, A stronger hand than hers helped it along; A voice talked with her through the shadows cool More sweet to me than song.

Ah, Willie, Willie, was my love less worth Than apples with their green leaves piled above?

I counted rosiest apples on the earth Of far less worth than love.

So once it was with me you stooped to talk Laughing and listening in this very lane: To think that by this way we used to walk We shall not walk again!

I let my neighbors pa.s.s me, ones and twos And groups; the latest said the night grew chill, And hastened: but I loitered, while the dews Fell fast I loitered still.

SONG.

Two doves upon the selfsame branch, Two lilies on a single stem, Two b.u.t.terflies upon one flower:-- O happy they who look on them.

Who look upon them hand in hand Flushed in the rosy summer light; Who look upon them hand in hand And never give a thought to night.

MAUDE CLARE.

Out of the church she followed them With a lofty step and mien: His bride was like a village maid, Maude Clare was like a queen.

"Son Thomas," his lady mother said, With smiles, almost with tears: "May Nell and you but live as true As we have done for years;

"Your father thirty years ago Had just your tale to tell; But he was not so pale as you, Nor I so pale as Nell."

My lord was pale with inward strife, And Nell was pale with pride; My lord gazed long on pale Maude Clare Or ever he kissed the bride.

"Lo, I have brought my gift, my lord, Have brought my gift," she said: "To bless the hearth, to bless the board, To bless the marriage-bed.

"Here's my half of the golden chain You wore about your neck, That day we waded ankle-deep For lilies in the beck:

"Here's my half of the faded leaves We plucked from budding bough, With feet amongst the lily-leaves,-- The lilies are budding now."

He strove to match her scorn with scorn, He faltered in his place: "Lady," he said,--"Maude Clare," he said,-- "Maude Clare":--and hid his face.

She turned to Nell: "My Lady Nell, I have a gift for you; Though, were it fruit, the bloom were gone, Or, were it flowers, the dew.

"Take my share of a fickle heart, Mine of a paltry love: Take it or leave it as you will, I wash my hands thereof."

"And what you leave," said Nell, "I'll take, And what you spurn, I'll wear; For he's my lord for better and worse, And him I love, Maude Clare.

"Yea, though you're taller by the head, More wise, and much more fair; I'll love him till he loves me best, Me best of all, Maude Clare."

ECHO.

Come to me in the silence of the night; Come in the speaking silence of a dream; Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright As sunlight on a stream; Come back in tears, O memory, hope, love of finished years.