Rossetti Archive Textual Transcription
Document Title: Poems. A New Edition (1881), proof Signature C (Delaware Museum, revise proof)
Author: Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Date of publication: 1881 May 15
Publisher: F. S. Ellis
Printer: Strangeways and Walden
Issue: 1
The
full Rossetti Archive record for this transcribed document is available.
page: 17
- ‘Oh his son still cries, if you forgive,
- Sister Helen,
- The body dies but the soul shall live.’
- ‘Fire shall forgive me as I forgive,
- Little brother!’
- (
O Mother, Mary Mother,
-
As she forgives, between Hell and Heaven!)
-
190‘Oh he prays you, as his heart would rive,
- Sister Helen,
- To save his dear son's soul alive.’
- Fire cannot slay it, it shall thrive,
- Little brother!
- (
O Mother, Mary Mother,
-
Alas, alas, between Hell and Heaven!)
- ‘He cries to you, kneeling in the road,
- Sister Helen,
- To go with him for the love of God!’
-
200‘The way is long to his son's abode,
- Little brother.’
- (
O Mother, Mary Mother,
-
The way is long, between Hell and Heaven!)
page: 18
- ‘A lady's here, by a dark steed brought,
- Sister Helen,
- So darkly clad, I saw her not.’
- ‘See her now or never see aught,
- Little brother!’
- (
O Mother, Mary Mother,
-
210
What more to see, between Hell and Heaven?)
- ‘Her hood falls back, and the moon shines fair,
- Sister Helen,
- On the Lady of Ewern's golden hair.’
- ‘Blest hour of my power and her despair,
- Little brother!’
- (
O Mother, Mary Mother,
-
Hour blest and bann'd, between Hell and Heaven!)
- ‘Pale, pale her cheeks, that in pride did glow,
- Sister Helen,
-
220'Neath the bridal-wreath three days ago.’
- ‘One morn for pride and three days for woe,
- Little brother!’
- (
O Mother, Mary Mother,
-
Three days, three nights, between Hell and Heaven!)
page: 19
- ‘Her clasped hands stretch from her bending head,
- Sister Helen;
- With the loud wind's wail her sobs are wed.’
- ‘What wedding-strains hath her bridal-bed,
- Little brother?’
-
230 (
O Mother, Mary Mother,
-
What strain
s but death's, between Hell and Heaven?
)
- ‘She may not speak, she sinks in a swoon,
- Sister Helen,—
- She lifts her lips and gasps on the moon.’
- ‘Oh! might I but hear her soul's blithe tune,
- Little brother!’
- (
O Mother, Mary Mother,
-
Her woe's dumb cry, between Hell and Heaven!)
- ‘They've caught her to Westholm's saddle-bow,
-
240 Sister Helen,
- And her moonlit hair gleams white in its flow.’
- ‘Let it turn whiter than winter snow,
- Little brother!’
- (
O Mother, Mary Mother,
-
Woe-withered gold, between Hell and Heaven!)
page: 20
- ‘O Sister Helen, you heard the bell,
- Sister Helen!
- More loud than the vesper-chime it fell.’
- ‘No vesper-chime, but a dying knell,
-
250 Little brother!’
- (
O Mother, Mary Mother,
-
His dying knell, between Hell and Heaven!)
- ‘Alas! but I fear the heavy sound,
- Sister Helen;
- Is it in the sky or in the ground?’
- ‘Say, have they turned their horses round,
- Little brother?’
- (
O Mother, Mary Mother,
-
What would she more, between Hell and Heaven?)
-
260 ‘They have raised the old man from his knee,
- Sister Helen,
- And they ride in silence hastily.’
- ‘More fast the naked soul doth flee,
- Little brother!’
- (
O Mother, Mary Mother,
-
The naked soul, between Hell and Heaven!)
page: 21
- ‘Flank to flank are the
white
three steeds gone,
- Sister Helen,
- But the lady's dark steed goes alone.’
-
270 ‘And lonely her bridegroom's soul hath flown,
- Little brother.’
- (
O Mother, Mary Mother,
-
The lonely ghost, between Hell and Heaven!)
- ‘Oh the wind is sad in the iron chill,
- Sister Helen,
- And weary sad they look by the hill.’
- ‘But he and I are sadder still,
- Little brother!’
- (
O Mother, Mary Mother,
-
280
Most sad of all, between Hell and Heaven!)
- ‘See, see, the wax has dropped from its place,
- Sister Helen,
- And the flames are winning up apace!’
- ‘Yet here they burn but for a space,
- Little brother!’
- (
O Mother, Mary Mother,
-
Here for a space, between Hell and Heaven!)
page: 22
- ‘Ah! what white thing at the door has cross'd,
- Sister Helen?
-
290 Ah! what is this that sighs in the frost?’
- ‘A soul that's lost as mine is lost,
- Little brother!’
- (
O Mother, Mary Mother,
-
Lost, lost, all lost, between Hell and Heaven!)
page: 23
- ‘O HAVE you seen the Stratton flood
- That's great with rain to-day?
- It runs beneath your wall, Lord Sands,
- Full of the new-mown hay.
- ‘I led your hounds to Hutton bank
- To bathe at early morn:
- They got their bath by Borrowbrake
- Above the standing corn.’
- Out from the castle-stair Lord Sands
-
10 Looked up the western lea;
- The rook was grieving on her nest,
- The flood was round her tree.
- Over the castle-wall Lord Sands
- Looked down the eastern hill:
- The stakes swam free among the boats,
- The flood was rising still.
page: 24
- ‘What's yonder far below that lies
- So white against the slope?’
- ‘O it's a sail o' your bonny barks
-
20 The waters have washed up.’
- ‘But I have never a sail so white,
- And the water's not yet there.’
- ‘O it's the swans o' your bonny lake
- The rising flood doth scare.’
- ‘The swans they would not hold so still,
- So high they would not win.’
- ‘O it's Joyce my wife has spread her smock
- And fears to fetch it in.’
- ‘Nay, knave, it's neither sail nor swans,
-
30 Nor aught that you can say;
- For though your wife might leave her smock,
- Herself she'd bring away.’
- Lord Sands has passed the turret-stair,
- The court, and yard, and all;
- The kine were in the byre that day,
- The nags were in the stall.
page: 25
- Lord Sands has won the weltering slope
- Whereon the white shape lay:
- The clouds were still above the hill,
-
40 And the shape was still as they.
- Oh pleasant is the gaze of life
- And sad is death's blind head;
- But awful are the living eyes
- In the face of one thought dead!
- ‘In God's name, Janet, is it me
- Thy ghost has come to seek?’
- ‘Nay, wait another hour, Lord Sands,—
- Be sure my ghost shall speak.’
- A moment stood he as a stone,
-
50 Then grovelled to his knee.
- ‘O Janet, O my love, my love,
- Rise up and come with me!’
- ‘O once before you bade me come,
- And it's here you have brought me!
- ‘O many's the sweet word, Lord Sands,
- You've spoken oft to me;
- But all that I have from you to-day
- Is the rain on my body.
page: 26
- ‘And many's the good gift, Lord Sands,
-
60 You've promised oft to me;
- But the gift of yours I keep to-day
- Is the babe in my body.
- ‘O it's not in any earthly bed
- That first my babe I'll see;
- For I have brought my body here
- That the flood may cover me.’
- His face was close against her face,
- His hands of hers were fain:
- O her wet cheeks were hot with tears,
-
70 Her wet hands cold with rain.
- ‘They told me you were dead, Janet,—
- How could I guess the lie?’
- ‘They told me you were false, Lord Sands,—
- What could I do but die?’
- ‘Now keep you well, my brother Giles,—
- Through you I deemed her dead!
- As wan as your towers seem to-day,
- To-morrow they'll
be
look seem
red.
page: 27
- ‘Look down, look down, my false mother,
-
80 That bade me not to grieve:
- You'll look up when our marriage fires
- Are lit to-morrow eve.
- ‘O more than one and more than two
- The sorrow of this shall see:
- But it's to-morrow, love, for them,—
- To-day's for thee and me.’
- He's drawn her face between his hands
- And her pale mouth to his:
- No bird that was so still that day
-
90 Chirps sweeter than his kiss.
- The flood was creeping round their feet.
- ‘O Janet, come away!
- The hall is warm for the marriage-rite,
- The bed for the birthday.’
- ‘Nay, but I hear your mother cry,
- “Go bring this bride to bed!
- And would she christen her babe unborn
- So wet she comes to wed?”
page: 28
- ‘I'll be your wife to cross your door
-
100 And meet your mother's e'e.
- We plighted troth to wed i' the kirk,
- And it's there you'll wed with me.’
- He's ta'en her by the short girdle
- And by the dripping sleeve:
- ‘Go fetch Sir Jock my mother's priest,—
- You'll ask of him no leave.
- ‘O it's one half-hour to reach the kirk
- And one for the marriage-rite;
- And kirk and castle and castle-lands
-
110 Shall be our babe's to-night.’
- ‘The flood's in the kirkyard, Lord Sands,
- And round the belfry-stair.’
- ‘I bade
ye
you fetch the priest,’ he said,
- ‘Myself shall bring him there.
- ‘It's for the lilt of wedding bells
- We'll have the hail to pour,
- And for the clink of bridle-reins
- The plashing of the oar.
page: 29
- Beneath them on the nether hill
-
120 A boat was floating wide:
- Lord Sands swam out and caught the oars
- And rowed to the hill-side.
- He's wrapped her in a green mantle
- And set her softly in;
- Her hair was wet upon her face,
- Her face was grey and thin;
- And ‘Oh!’ she said, ‘lie still, my babe,
- It's out you must not win!’
- But woe's my heart for Father John
-
130 As hard as he might pray,
- There seemed no help but Noah's ark
- Or Jonah's fish that day.
- The first strokes that the oars struck
- Were over the broad leas;
- The next strokes that the oars struck
- They pushed beneath the trees;
- The last stroke that the oars struck,
- The good boat's head was met,
- And there the gate of the kirkyard
-
140 Stood like a ferry-gate.
page: 30
- He's set his hand upon the bar
- And lightly leaped within:
- He's lifted her to his left shoulder,
- Her knees beside his chin.
- The graves lay deep beneath the flood
- Under the rain alone;
- And when the foot-stone made him slip,
- He held by the head-stone.
- The empty boat thrawed i' the wind,
-
150 Against the postern tied.
- ‘Hold still, you've brought my love with me,
- You shall take back my bride.’
- But woe's my heart for Father John
- And the saints he clamoured to!
- There's never a saint but Christopher
- Might hale such buttocks through!
- And ‘Oh!’ she said, ‘on men's shoulders
- I well had thought to wend,
- And well to travel with a priest,
-
160 But not to have cared or ken'd.
page: 31
- ‘And oh!’ she said, ‘it's well this way
- That I thought to have fared,—
- Not to have lighted at the kirk
- But stopped in the kirkyard.
- ‘For it's oh and oh I prayed to God,
- Whose rest I hoped to win,
- That when to-night at your board-head
- You'd bid the feast begin,
- This water past your window-sill
-
170 Might bear my body in.’
- Now make the white bed warm and soft
- And greet the merry morn.
- The night the mother should have died,
- The young son shall be born.
page: 32
- ‘Who rules these lands?’ the
Pilgrim said.
- ‘Stranger, Queen Blanchelys.’
- ‘And who has thus harried them?’ he said.
- ‘It was Duke Luke did this:
- God's ban be his!’
- The Pilgrim said: ‘Where is your house?
- I'll rest there, with your will.’
- ‘You've but to climb these blackened boughs
- And you'll see it over the hill,
-
10 For it burns still.’
- ‘Which road, to seek your Queen?’ said he.
- ‘Nay, nay, but with some wound
- You'll fly back hither, it may be,
- And by your blood i' the ground
- My place be found.’
Electronic Archive Edition: 1