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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=360755" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sonnets XCIX: C: Newborn Death</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I<br>To-day Death seems to me an infant child<br>Which her worn mother Life upon my knee<br>Has set to grow my friend and play with me;<br>If haply so my heart might be beguil'd<br>To find no terrors in a face so mild,—<br>If haply so my weary heart might be<br>Unto the newborn milky eyes of thee,<br>O Death, before resentment reconcil'd.<br>How long, O Death? And shall thy feet depart<br>Still a young child's with mine, or wilt thou stand<br>Fullgrown the helpful daughter of my heart,<br>What time with thee indeed I reach the strand<br>Of the pale wave which knows thee what thou art,<br>And drink it in the hollow of thy hand?<br>II<br>And thou, O Life, the lady of all bliss,<br>With whom, when our first heart beat full and fast,<br>I wandered till the haunts of men were pass'd,<br>And in fair places found all bowers amiss<br>Till only woods and waves might hear our kiss,<br>While to the winds all thought of Death we cast:—<br>Ah, Life! and must I have from thee at last<br>No smile to greet me and no babe but this?<br>Lo! Love, the child once ours; and Song, whose hair<br>Blew like a flame and blossomed like a wreath;<br>And Art, whose eyes were worlds by God found fair:<br>These o'er the book of Nature mixed their breath<br>With neck-twined arms, as oft we watched them there:<br>And did these die that thou mightst bear me Death?</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Dante+Gabriel+Rossetti">Dante Gabriel Rossetti</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=360755" data-title="Sonnets XCIX: C: Newborn Death de Dante Gabriel Rossetti" data-description="I
To-day Death seems to me an infant child
Which her worn mother Life upon my knee
Has set to grow my friend and play with me;
If haply so my heart might be beguil'd
To find no terrors in a face so mild,—
If haply so my weary heart might be
Unto..."></div>
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