DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI. CLXXXVII. LOVESIGHT. (House of Life.—IV.) WHEN do I see thee most, beloved one? When in the light the spirits of mine eyes Before thy face, their altar, solemnize The worship of that Love through thee made known? O love, my love! if I no more should see Nor image of thine eyes in any spring,- CLXXXVIII. THE DARK GLASS. (House of Life.—XXXIV.) NOT I myself know all my love for thee: How should I reach so far, who cannot weigh Shall birth and death, and all dark names that be Lash deaf mine ears and blind my face with spray; Lo! what am I to Love, the Lord of all? One murmuring shell he gathers from the sand,- Yet through thine eyes he grants me clearest call That any hour-girt life may understand. DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI. CLXXXIX. WITHOUT HER. (House of Life.-LIII.) WHAT of her glass without her? The blank grey There where the pool is blind of the moon's face. Her dress without her? The tossed empty space. Of cloud-rack whence the moon has passed away. Her paths without her? Day's appointed sway Usurped by desolate night. Her pillowed place Without her? Tears, ah me! for love's good grace, And cold forgetfulness of night or day. What of the heart without her? Nay, poor heart, A way-farer by barren ways and chill, Steep ways and weary, without her thou art, Where the long cloud, the long wood's counterpart, Sheds doubled darkness up the labouring hill. CXC. TRUE WOMAN-HER HEAVEN. (House of Life.—LVII.) IF to grow old in Heaven is to grow young, Were Paradise all uttermost worlds among. The sunrise blooms and withers on the hill Like any hillflower; and the noblest troth Dies here to dust. Yet shall Heaven's promise clothe Even yet those lovers who have cherished still This test for love :- in every kiss sealed fast To feel the first kiss and forebode the last. DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI. TRUE WOMAN-HER LOVE. CXCI. (House of Life.—LVIII.) SHE loves him; for her infinite soul is Love, A glass facing his fire, where the bright bliss Ice to the moon; while her pure fire to his For whom it burns, clings close i' the heart's alcove. Lo! they are one. With wifely breast to breast And circling arms, she welcomes all command |