Poems by Christina Georgina Rossetti Part 39
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A SONNET OF SONNETS.
Beatrice, immortalized by "altissimo poeta ... cotanto amante;" Laura, celebrated by a great though an inferior bard,--have alike paid the exceptional penalty of exceptional honor, and have come down to us resplendent with charms, but (at least, to my apprehension) scant of attractiveness.
These heroines of world-wide fame were preceded by a bevy of unnamed ladies "donne innominate" sung by a school of less conspicuous poets; and in that land and that period which gave simultaneous birth to Catholics, to Albigenses, and to Troubadours, one can imagine many a lady as sharing her lover's poetic apt.i.tude, while the barrier between them might be one held sacred by both, yet not such as to render mutual love incompatible with mutual honor.
Had such a lady spoken for herself, the portrait left us might have appeared more tender, if less dignified, than any drawn even by a devoted friend. Or had the Great Poetess of our own day and nation only been unhappy instead of happy, her circ.u.mstances would have invited her to bequeath to us, in lieu of the "Portuguese Sonnets," an inimitable "donna innominata"
drawn not from fancy but from feeling, and worthy to occupy a niche beside Beatrice and Laura.
1.
"Lo di che han detto a' dolci amici addio."--Dante.
"Amor, con quanto sforzo oggi mi vinci!"--Petrarca.
Come back to me, who wait and watch for you:-- Or come not yet, for it is over then, And long it is before you come again, So far between my pleasures are and few.
While, when you come not, what I do I do Thinking "Now when he comes," my sweetest "when:"
For one man is my world of all the men This wide world holds; O love, my world is you.
Howbeit, to meet you grows almost a pang Because the pang of parting comes so soon; My hope hangs waning, waxing, like a moon Between the heavenly days on which we meet: Ah me, but where are now the songs I sang When life was sweet because you called them sweet?
2.
"Era gia l'ora che volge il desio."--Dante.
"Ricorro al tempo ch' io vi vidi prima."--Petrarca.
I wish I could remember that first day, First hour, first moment of your meeting me, If bright or dim the season, it might be Summer or Winter for aught I can say; So unrecorded did it slip away, So blind was I to see and to foresee, So dull to mark the budding of my tree That would not blossom yet for many a May.
If only I could recollect it, such A day of days! I let it come and go As traceless as a thaw of bygone snow; It seemed to mean so little, meant so much; If only now I could recall that touch, First touch of hand in hand--Did one but know!
3.
"O ombre vane, fuor che ne l'aspetto!"--Dante.
"Immaginata guida la conduce."--Petrarca.
I dream of you to wake: would that I might Dream of you and not wake but slumber on; Nor find with dreams the dear companion gone, As Summer ended Summer birds take flight.
In happy dreams I hold you full in sight, I blush again who waking look so wan; Brighter than sunniest day that ever shone, In happy dreams your smile makes day of night.
Thus only in a dream we are at one, Thus only in a dream we give and take The faith that maketh rich who take or give; If thus to sleep is sweeter than to wake, To die were surely sweeter than to live, Though there be nothing new beneath the sun.
4.
"Poca favilla gran fiamma seconda."--Dante.
"Ogni altra cosa, ogni pensier va fore, E sol ivi con voi rimansi amore."--Petrarca.
I loved you first: but afterwards your love Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove.
Which owes the other most? my love was long, And yours one moment seemed to wax more strong; I loved and guessed at you, you construed me And loved me for what might or might not be-- Nay, weights and measures do us both a wrong.
For verily love knows not "mine" or "thine;"
With separate "I" and "thou" free love has done, For one is both and both are one in love: Rich love knows nought of "thine that is not mine;"
Both have the strength and both the length thereof, Both of us of the love which makes us one.
5.
"Amor che a nulla amato amar perdona."--Dante.
"Amor m'addusse in si gioiosa spene."--Petrarca.
O my heart's heart, and you who are to me More than myself myself, G.o.d be with you, Keep you in strong obedience leal and true To Him whose n.o.ble service setteth free, Give you all good we see or can foresee, Make your joys many and your sorrows few, Bless you in what you bear and what you do, Yea, perfect you as He would have you be.
So much for you; but what for me, dear friend?
To love you without stint and all I can To-day, to-morrow, world without an end; To love you much and yet to love you more, As Jordan at his flood sweeps either sh.o.r.e; Since woman is the helpmeet made for man.
6.
"Or puoi la quant.i.tate Comprender de l'amor che a te mi scalda."--Dante.
"Non vo' che da tal nodo amor mi scioglia."--Petrarca.
Trust me, I have not earned your dear rebuke, I love, as you would have me, G.o.d the most; Would lose not Him, but you, must one be lost, Nor with Lot's wife cast back a faithless look Unready to forego what I forsook; This say I, having counted up the cost, This, though I be the feeblest of G.o.d's host, The sorriest sheep Christ shepherds with His crook, Yet while I love my G.o.d the most, I deem That I can never love you overmuch; I love Him more, so let me love you too; Yea, as I apprehend it, love is such I cannot love you if I love not Him, I cannot love Him if I love not you.
7.
"Qui primavera sempre ed ogni frutto."--Dante.
"Ragionando con meco ed io con lui."--Petrarca.
"Love me, for I love you"--and answer me, "Love me, for I love you"--so shall we stand As happy equals in the flowering land Of love, that knows not a dividing sea.
Love builds the house on rock and not on sand, Love laughs what while the winds rave desperately; And who hath found love's citadel unmanned?
And who hath held in bonds love's liberty?
My heart's a coward though my words are brave-- We meet so seldom, yet we surely part So often; there's a problem for your art!
Still I find comfort in his Book, who saith, Though jealousy be cruel as the grave, And death be strong, yet love is strong as death.
8.
"Come dicesse a Dio: D'altro non calme."--Dante.
"Spero trovar pieta non che perdono."--Petrarca.
"I, if I perish, perish"--Esther spake: And bride of life or death she made her fair In all the l.u.s.tre of her perfumed hair And smiles that kindle longing but to slake.
She put on pomp of loveliness, to take Her husband through his eyes at unaware; She spread abroad her beauty for a snare, Harmless as doves and subtle as a snake.
Poems by Christina Georgina Rossetti Part 39
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