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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=342075" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Complaint of Lisa</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">There is no woman living who draws breath <br>So sad as I, though all things sadden her. <br>There is not one upon life's weariest way <br>Who is weary as I am weary of all but death. <br>Toward whom I look as looks the sunflower <br>All day with all his whole soul toward the sun; <br>While in the sun's sight I make moan all day, <br>And all night on my sleepless maiden bed. <br>Weep and call out on death, O Love, and thee, <br>That thou or he would take me to the dead. <br>And know not what thing evil I have done <br>That life should lay such heavy hand on me. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Alas! Love, what is this thou wouldst with me? <br>What honor shalt thou have to quench my breath, <br>Or what shall my heart broken profit thee? <br>O Love, O great god Love, what have I done, <br>That thou shouldst hunger so after my death? <br>My heart is harmless as my life's first day: <br>Seek out some false fair woman, and plague her <br>Till her tears even as my tears fill her bed: <br>I am the least flower in thy flowery way, <br>But till my time be come that I be dead, <br>Let me live out my flower-time in the sun, <br>Though my leaves shut before the sunflower. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">O Love, Love, Love, the kingly sunflower! <br>Shall he the sun hath looked on look on me, <br>That live down here in shade, out of the sun, <br>Here living in the sorrow and shadow of death? <br>Shall he that feeds his heart full of the day <br>Care to give mine eyes light, or my lips breath? <br>Because she loves him, shall my lord love her <br>Who is as a worm in my lord's kingly way? <br>I shall not see him or know him alive or dead; <br>But thou, I know thee, O Love, and pray to thee <br>That in brief while my brief life-days be done, <br>And the worm quickly make my marriage-bed. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">For underground there is no sleepless bed. <br>But here since I beheld my sunflower <br>These eyes have slept not, seeing all night and day <br>His sunlike eyes, and face fronting the sun. <br>Wherefore, if anywhere be any death, <br>I fain would find and fold him fast to me, <br>That I may sleep with the world's eldest dead, <br>With her that died seven centuries since, and her <br>That went last night down the night-wandering way. <br>For this is sleep indeed, when labor is done, <br>Without love, without dreams, and without breath, <br>And without thought, O name unnamed! of thee. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah! but, forgetting all things, shall I thee? <br>Wilt thou not be as now about my bed <br>There underground as here before the sun? <br>Shall not thy vision vex me alive and dead, <br>Thy moving vision without form or breath? <br>I read long since the bitter tale of her <br>Who read the tale of Launcelot on a day, <br>And died, and had no quiet after death, <br>But was moved ever along a weary way, <br>Lost with her love in the underworld; ah me, <br>O my king, O my lordly sunflower, <br>Would God to me, too, such a thing were done! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But if such sweet and bitter things be done, <br>Then, flying from life, I shall not fly from thee. <br>For in that living world without a sun <br>Thy vision will lay hold upon me dead, <br>And meet and mock me, and mar my peace in death. <br>Yet if being wroth, God had such pity on her, <br>Who was a sinner and foolish in her day, <br>That even in hell they twain should breathe one breath, <br>Why should he not in some wise pity me? <br>So if I sleep not in my soft strait bed, <br>I may look up and see my sunflower <br>As he the sun, in some divine strange way. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">O poor my heart, well knowest thou in what way <br>This sore sweet evil unto us was done. <br>For on a holy and a heavy day <br>I was arisen out of my still small bed <br>To see the knights tilt, and one said to me <br>&quot;The king;&quot; and seeing him, somewhat stopped my breath; <br>And if the girl spake more, I heard her not, <br>For only I saw what I shall see when dead, <br>A kingly flower of knights, a sunflower, <br>That shone against the sunlight like the sun, <br>And like a fire, O heart, consuming thee, <br>The fire of love that lights the pyre of death. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Howbeit I shall not die an evil death <br>Who have loved in such a sad and sinless way, <br>That this my love, lord, was no shame to thee. <br>So when mine eyes are shut against the sun, <br>O my soul's sun, O the world's sunflower, <br>Thou nor no man will quite despise me dead. <br>And dying I pray with all my low last breath <br>That thy whole life may be as was that day, <br>That feast-day that made trothplight death and me, <br>Giving the world light of thy great deeds done; <br>And that fair face brightening thy bridal bed, <br>That God be good as God hath been to her. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">That all things goodly and glad remain with her, <br>All things that make glad life and goodly death; <br>That as a bee sucks from a sunflower <br>Honey, when summer draws delighted breath, <br>Her soul may drink of thy soul in like way, <br>And love make life a fruitful marriage-bed <br>Where day may bring forth fruits of joy to day <br>And night to night till days and nights be dead. <br>And as she gives light of her love to thee, <br>Give thou to her the old glory of days long done; <br>And either give some heat of light to me, <br>To warm me where I sleep without the sun. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">O sunflower make drunken with the sun, <br>O knight whose lady's heart draws thine to her, <br>Great king, glad lover, I have a word to thee. <br>There is a weed lives out of the sun's way, <br>Hid from the heat deep in the meadow's bed, <br>That swoons and whitens at the wind's least breath, <br>A flower star-shaped, that all a summer day <br>Will gaze her soul out on the sunflower <br>For very love till twilight finds her dead. <br>But the great sunflower heeds not her poor death, <br>Knows not when all her loving life is done; <br>And so much knows my lord the king of me. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ay, all day long he has no eye for me; <br>With golden eye following the golden sun <br>From rose-colored to purple-pillowed bed, <br>From birthplace to the flame-lit place of death, <br>From eastern end to western of his way, <br>So mine eye follows thee, my sunflower, <br>So the white star-flower turns and yearns to thee, <br>The sick weak weed, not well alive or dead, <br>Trod under foot if any pass by her, <br>Pale, without color of summer or summer breath <br>In the shrunk shuddering petals, that have done <br>No work but love, and die before the day. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But thou, to-day, to-morrow, and every day, <br>Be glad and great, O love whose love slays me. <br>Thy fervent flower made fruitful from the sun <br>Shall drop its golden seed in the world's way, <br>That all men thereof nourished shall praise thee <br>For grain and flower and fruit of works well done; <br>Till thy shed seed, O shining sunflower, <br>Bring forth such growth of the world's garden-bed <br>As like the sun shall outlive age and death. <br>And yet I would thine heart had heed of her <br>Who loves thee alive; but not till she be dead. <br>Come, Love, then, quickly, and take her utmost breath. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Song, speak for me who am dumb as are the dead; <br>From my sad bed of tears I send forth thee, <br>To fly all day from sun's birth to sun's death <br>Down the sun's way after the flying sun, <br>For love of her that gave thee wings and breath <br>Ere day be done, to seek the sunflower.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Algernon+Charles+Swinburne">Algernon Charles Swinburne</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=342075" data-title="The Complaint of Lisa de Algernon Charles Swinburne" data-description="There is no woman living who draws breath 
So sad as I, though all things sadden her. 
There is not one upon life's weariest way 
Who is weary as I am weary of all but death. 
Toward whom I look as looks the sunflower 
All day with all his whole s..."></div>
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