Page:Poems Rossetti.djvu/392

 The paling roses of a cloud,
  The fading bow that arches space,
 These woo my fancy toward my shroud;
    Toward the place
Of faces veiled, and heads discrowned and bowed.

 The nation of the steadfast stars,
  The wandering star whose blaze is brief,
 These make me beat against the bars
    Of my grief;
My tedious grief, twin to the life it mars.

 O fretted heart tossed to and fro,
  So fain to flee, so fain to rest!
 All glories that are high or low,
    East or west,
Grow dim to thee who art so fain to go.

A FISHER-WIFE.

THE soonest mended, nothing said;
 And help may rise from east or west
But my two hands are lumps of lead,
 My heart sits leaden in my breast.

O north wind swoop not from the north,
 O south wind linger in the south,
Oh come not raving raging forth,
 To bring my heart into my mouth;