THE BLESSED DAMOZEL

T

HE blessed damozel leaned

out

From the gold bar of
Heaven;

Her eyes were deeper than

the depth

Of waters stilled at even;

She had three lilies in her hand,

And the stars in her hair were seven.

Her robe, ungirt from clasp to hem,
No wrought flowers did adorn,
But a white rose of Mary's gift,

For service neatly worn,
Her hair that lay along her back
Was yellow like ripe corn.

Her seemed she scarce had been a day
One of God's choristers;

The wonder was not yet quite gone
From that still look of hers;
Albeit, to them she left, her day

Had counted as ten years.

It was the rampart of God's house
That she was standing on;

By God built over the sheer depth
The which is Space begun;

So high that looking downward thence
She scarce could see the sun.

It lies in Heaven, across the flood
Of ether, as a bridge.

Beneath, the tides of day and night
With flame and darkness ridge
The void, as low as where this earth
Spins like a fretful midge.

Around her, lovers, newly met
'Mid deathless love's acclaims
Spoke evermore among themselves
Their heart-remembered names;
And the souls mounting up to God
Went by her like thin flames.

And still she bowed herself and stooped
Out of the circling charm,

Until her bosom must have made

The bar she leaned on warm,

And the lilies lay as if asleep

Along her bended arm.

From the fixed place of Heaven she saw Time like a pulse shake fierce

Through all the worlds. Her gaze still

strove

Within the gulf to pierce

Its path; and now she spoke as when
The stars sang in their spheres.

"I wish that he were come to me,

For he will come," she said.

"Have I not prayed in Heaven?-on earth,

Lord, Lord, has he not prayed?

Are not two prayers a perfect strength? And shall I feel afraid?"

*

She gazed and listened, and then said,
Less sad of speech than mild,—
"All this is when he comes." She ceased.
The light thrilled towards her, fill'd
With angels in strong level flight.
Her eyes prayed, and she smil'd.

(I saw her smile.) But soon their path
Was vague in distant spheres;
And then she cast her arms along

The golden barriers,

And laid her face between her hands

And wept. (I heard her tears.)

-Dante Gabriel Rossetti.

F

SONNET FROM THE

PORTUGUESE

IRST time he kissed me, he but only kissed

The fingers of this hand wherewith I write,

And ever since it grew more clean and white,

Oh, list,'

quick

When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst

I could not wear here plainer to my sight,

Than that first kiss. The second passed

in height

The first, and sought the forehead, and half missed,

Half falling on the hair. O beyond meed!

That was the chrism of love which love's

own crown,

With sanctifying sweetness, did precede.

The third upon my lips was folded down

In perfect, purple state! since when indeed,

I have been proud and said, "My love, my own."

-Elizabeth Barrett Browning.

A

TO SLEEP

FLOCK of sheep that leisurely pass by,

One after one; the sound of rain, and bees

Murmuring; the fall of

rivers, winds and seas,

Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky;

By turns have all been thought of, yet I lie

Sleepless; and soon the small birds' melodies

Must hear, first uttered from my orchard trees;

And the first Cuckoo's melancholy cry. Even thus last night, and two nights more, I lay,

And could not win thee, Sleep! by any stealth:

So do not let me wear to-night away: Without Thee what is all the morning's wealth?

Come, blessed barrier between day and day,

Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joy

ous health!

-William Wordsworth.