Christina Georgina Rossetti
¶[1830-18941
723 Song
¶WHEN I am dead, my dearest,Sing no sad songs for me;Plant thou no roses at my head,Nor shady cypress tree:Be the green grass above meWith showers and dewdrops wet;And if thou wilt, remember,And if thou wilt, forget.
¶I shall not see the shadows,I shall not feel the rain;I shall not hear the nightingaleSing on, as if in pain;And dreaming through the twilightThat doth not rise nor set,Haply I may remember,And haply may forget.
Remember
¶REMEMBER me when I am gone away,Gone far away into the silent land;When you can no more hold me by the hand,Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.Remember me when no more day by dayYou tell me of our future that you plann'd:Only remember me; you understandIt will be late to counsel then or pray.Yet if you should forget me for a whileAnd afterwards remember, do not grieve:For if the darkness and corruption leaveA vestige of the thoughts that once I had,Better by far you should forget and smileThan that you should remember and be sad.
725 Up-hill
¶DOES the road wind up-hill all the way?Yes, to the very end.Will the day's journey take the whole long day?From morn to night, my friend.
¶But is there for the night a resting-place?A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.May not the darkness hide it from my face?You cannot miss that inn.
¶Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?Those who have gone before.Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?They will not keep you standing at that door.
¶Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak ?Of labour you shall find the sum.Will there be beds for me and all who seek?Yea, beds for all who come.
In the Round Tower at Jhansi
¶June 8, 18%] (Indian Mutiny)
¶A HUNDRED, a thousand to one; even so;Not a hope in the world remained:The swarming howling wretches belowGained and gained and gained.
¶Skene looked at his pale young wife.'Is the time come?'—'The time is come.'Young, strong, and so full of life,The agony struck them dumb.
¶Close his arm about her now,Close her cheek to his,Close the pistol to her brow—God forgive them this I
¶'Will it hurt much?' 'No, mine own:I wish I could bear the pang for both.'—'I wish I could bear the pang alone:Courage, dear, I am not loth.'
¶Kiss and kiss: 'It is not painThus to kiss and die.One kiss more.'—'And yet one again.'—'Good-bye.'—'Good-bye.'