Such thrilling pallor of cheek as doth enthral The heart; a mouth whose passionate forms imply All music and all silence held thereby; Deep golden locks, her sovereign coronal; A round reared neck, meet column of Love's shrine To cling to when the heart takes sanctuary; Hands which for ever at Love's bidding be, And soft-stirred feet still answering to his sign: These are her gifts, as tongue may tell them o'er. Breathe low her name, my soul; for that means more. 1881. XXXIV. THE DARK GLASS Nor I myself know all my love for thee: Shall birth and death, and all dark names that be As doors and windows bared to some loud sea, Lash deaf mine ears and blind my face with spray; And shall my sense pierce love,—the last And ultimate outpost of eternity? Lo! what am I to Love, the lord of all? One murmuring shell he gathers from the sand, One little heart-flame sheltered in his hand. Yet through thine eyes he grants me clearest call And veriest touch of powers primordial 1881. LVI. TRUE WOMAN-I. HERSELF To be a sweetness more desired than Spring; Than the wild rose-tree's arch that crowns To be an essence more environing Than wine's drained juice; a music ravishing More than the passionate pulse of Philomel ;To be all this 'neath one soft bosom's swell That is the flower of life:-how strange a thing! How strange a thing to be what Man can know Closely withheld, as all things most unseen,- seal of green That flecks the snowdrop underneath the snow. LVII. TRUE WOMAN-II. HER LOVE SHE loves him; for her infinite soul is Love, A glass facing his fire, where the bright bliss Is mirrored, and the heat returned. Yet move That glass, a stranger's amorous flame to prove, And it shall turn, by instant contraries, 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 Of love,—her soul to answering ardors fann'd: Yet as morn springs or twilight sinks to rest, Ah! who shall say she deems not loveliest The hour of sisterly sweet hand-in-hand? LVIII. TRUE WOMAN-III. HER HEAVEN IF to grow old in Heaven is to grow young, (As the Seer saw and said,) then blest were he With youth for evermore, whose heaven should be True Woman, she whom these weak notes have sung, Here and hereafter,-choir-strains of her tongue,Sky-spaces of her eyes,-sweet signs that flee About her soul's immediate sanctuary,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 1881. XCVII. A SUPERSCRIPTION Look in my face; my name is Might-have-been; Is now a shaken shadow intolerable, Of ultimate things unuttered the frail screen. Mark me, how still I am! But should there dart One moment through thy soul the soft surprise Of that winged Peace which lulls the breath of sighs, Then shalt thou see me smile, and turn apart Sleepless with cold commemorative eyes. 1870. Dante Gabriel Rossetti. ONE CERTAINTY VANITY of vanities, the Preacher saith, To-day is still the same as yesterday, To-morrow also even as one of them; And morning shall be cold and twilight grey. 1849. “BETWEEN THE SUNKEN SUN AND THE NEW MOON "1 BETWEEN the sunken sun and the new moon, |