Poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

The Woodspurge

The wind flapp'd loose, the wind was still,
Shaken out dead from tree and hill:
I had walk'd on at the wind's will,--
I sat now, for the wind was still.

Between my knees my forehead was,--
My lips, drawn in, said not Alas!
My hair was over in the grass,
My naked ears heard the day pass.

My eyes, wide open, had the run
Of some ten weeds to fix upon;
Among those few, out of the sun,
The woodspurge flower'd, three cups in one.

From perfect grief there need not be
Wisdom or even memory:
One thing then learnt remains to me,--
The woodspurge has a cup of three. 

1. The House of Life. Sonnet 99. Newborn Death - 1
2. The House of Life. Sonnet 26. Mid-Rapture
3. The House of Life. Sonnet 14. Youth's Spring-Tribute
4. The House of Life. Sonnet 31. Her Gifts
5. The House of Life. Sonnet 38. The Morrow's Message

Print

1260 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version