Thursday, May 01, 2014
Christiana Rossetti (1830-1894) might have written a memoir that told of a broken engagement, but she wrote poetry instead, sometimes poems that concealed her loneliness, love and longing for particular men. In many ways she was a bundle of contradictions. Born in England of Italian parents, she was an Evangelical who would later become Anglo-Catholic and always remain, as others described her, a spinster—a spinster perhaps with too many lost loves. One of her many poems is “A Daughter of Eve.”
A fool I was to sleep at noon,
And wake when night is chilly
Beneath the comfortless cold moon;
A fool to pluck my rose too soon,
A fool to snap my lily.
My garden-plot I have not kept;
Faded and all-forsaken,
I weep as I have never wept:
Oh it was summer when I slept,
It's winter now I waken.
Talk what you please of future spring
And sun-warm'd sweet to-morrow:
Stripp'd bare of hope and everything,
No more to laugh, no more to sing,
I sit alone with sorrow.
Posted by Ruth A. Tucker at 9:45 AM