"We two," she said, "will seek the groves Where the lady Mary is, With her five handmaidens, whose names "Circlewise sit they, with bound locks Into the fine cloth white like flame To fashion the birth-robes for them "He shall fear, haply, and be dumb: Not once abashed or weak: "Herself shall bring us, hand in hand, And angels meeting us shall sing "There will I ask of Christ the Lord Thus much for him and me: Only to live as once on earth With Love, only to be, As then awhile, for ever now 122 She gazed and listened and then said, "All this is when he comes." She ceased. (I saw her smile.) But soon their path Was vague in distant spheres: And then she cast her arms along The golden barriers, And laid her face between her hands, And wept. (I heard her tears.) Dante Gabriel Rossetti A SONG OF ANGIOLA IN HEAVEN 1 "LOWERS,-that have died upon my Sweet, FLO Lulled by the rhythmic dancing beat Of her young bosom under you,— As never, through thick buds of Spring, The Bird whose being no man knows- For lo, a garden-place I found, Well filled of leaves, and stilled of sound, Well flowered, with red fruit marvelous; And 'twixt the shining trunks would flit Tall knights and silken maids, or sit 1 Reprinted through special arrangement with Mr. Alban Dobson and with the Oxford University Press. With faces bent and amorous; There, in the heart thereof, and crowned My Love I found. Alone she walked,-ah, well I wis, At once across the sward she came: "Where hast thou stayed?" "Where hast thou stayed?" she asked as though The long years were an hour ago; But I spake not, nor answered, For, looking in her eyes, I saw A light not lit of mortal law; And in her clear cheek's changeless red, And sweet, unshaken speaking found That in this place the Hours were dead, And Time was bound. "This is well done," she said,—“in thee, O Love, that thou art come to me, To this green garden glorious; Now truly shall our life be sped In joyance and all goodlihed, For here all things are fair to us, And none with burden is oppressed, And none is poor or piteous,— For here is Rest. "No formless Future blurs the sky; Betwixt the Coming and the Past That darkens not; for Sin is shriven, At "Heaven" she ceased;—and lifted up With rounded mouth, and eyes aglow; And now, O Flowers,- For my dear Lady's sake Out from my pain a pillow, and to take Grief for a golden garment unto me; Knowing that I, at last, shall stand And, in the holding of my dear Love's hand, Forget the grieving and the misery. Austin Dobson 123 THE BALLAD OF DEAD LADIES1 TEL ELL me now in what hidden way is Where's Hipparchia, and where is Thais, She whose beauty was more than human? Where's Héloïse, the learned nun, For whose sake Abeillard, I ween, (From Love he won such dule and teen!) Sewed in a sack's mouth down the Seine? White Queen Blanche, like a queen of lilies, And Ermengarde the lady of Maine,— 1 Translated by Dante Gabriel Rossetti. |