Poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

The House of Life. Sonnet 95. The Vase of Life

Around the vase of Life at your slow pace
He has not crept, but turned it with his hands,
And all its sides already understands.
There, girt, one breathes alert for some great race;
Whose road runs far by sands and fruitful Space;
Who laughs, yet through the jolly throng has pass'd;
Who weeps, nor stays for weeping; who at last,
A youth, stands somewhere crowned, with silent face.

And he has filled this vase with wine for blood,
With blood for tears, with spice for burning vow,
With watered flowers for buried love most fit;
And would have cast it shattered to the flood,
Yet in Fate's name has kept it whole; which now
Stands empty till his ashes fall in it.

1. The House of Life. Sonnet 14. Youth's Spring-Tribute
2. The House of Life. Sonnet 99. Newborn Death - 1
3. The House of Life. Sonnet 40. Severed Selves
4. The House of Life. Sonnet 44. Cloud and Wind
5. The House of Life. Sonnet 70. The Hill Summit

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