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ages appeared arms beautiful believe beneath Blessed Damozel blind blood born breath calm Carillon ceased Chiaro church close Dante dead deep earth eyes face faith fall fame feeling feet felt flame Gabriel gaze God's hair hand hath head heard heart Heaven held holy Italian John keep knew knowledge known ladies laid leaned leave light lives London look MICHIGAN mind never night Nineveh once painted pale passed pause peace Pisa Poems pray prayer Queen remained rose Rossetti round scrip seek seemed seen sense shadow shook side silence soul sound space speak spirit spread stand stood thee thine thing thou thought till took turned unto voice volume weak whole wind woman wrought
Página 19 - When round his head the aureole clings, And he is clothed in white, I'll take his hand and go with him To the deep wells of light; As unto a stream we will step down, And bathe there in God's sight.
Página 57 - The smile rose first, — anon drew nigh The thought: . . . Those heavy wings spread high So sure of flight, which do not fly; That set gaze never on the sky ; Those scriptured flanks it cannot see; Its crown, a brow-contracting load; Its planted feet which trust the sod: . . . (So grew the image as I trod:) O Nineveh, was this thy God, — Thine also, mighty Nineveh?
Página 16 - Of waters stilled at even ; She had three lilies in her hand, And the stars in her hair were seven. Her robe, ungirt from clasp to hem, No wrought flowers did adorn, But a white rose of Mary's gift For service meetly worn ; Her hair that lay along her back Was yellow like ripe corn.
Página 22 - 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 Together, I and he." She gazed and listened and then said, Less sad of speech than mild,— "All this is when he comes.
Página 16 - It lies in Heaven, across the flood Of ether, as a bridge. Beneath, the tides of day and night With flame and darkness ridge The void, as low as where this earth Spins like a fretful midge.
Página 16 - From that still look of hers ; Albeit, to them she left, her day Had counted as ten years. (To one, it is ten years of years. Yet now, and in this place. Surely she leaned o'er me — her hair Fell all about my face. . . Nothing : the autumn-fall of leaves. The whole year sets apace...
Página 21 - Into the fine cloth white like flame Weaving the golden thread, To fashion the birth-robes for them Who are just born, being dead. "He shall fear, haply, and be dumb: Then will I lay...
Página 20 - And I myself will teach to him, I myself, lying so. The songs I sing here; which his voice Shall pause in, hushed and slow, And find some knowledge at each pause, Or some new thing to know.