Recollections of Dante Gabriel Rossetti

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Side 21 - Behold the lilies of the field. They toil not neither do they spin...
Side 147 - Seven days, seven nights, I saw that curse, And yet I could not die. The moving Moon went up the sky, And no where did abide: Softly she was going up, And a star or two beside...
Side 149 - Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear The Godhead's most benignant grace; Nor know we anything so fair As is the smile upon thy face: Flowers laugh before thee on their beds And fragrance in thy footing treads; Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong; And the most ancient heavens, through thee, Are fresh and strong.
Side 20 - Are not two prayers a perfect strength? And shall I feel afraid? 'When round his head the aureole clings, And he is clothed in white, I'll take his hand and go with him To the deep wells of light; As unto a stream we will step down, And bathe there in God's sight.
Side 144 - Until mine eyes almost aver That now, even now, the sweet lips part To breathe the words of the sweet heart: — And yet the earth is over her. Alas! even such the thin-drawn ray That makes the prison-depths more rude,: — The drip of water night and day Giving a tongue to solitude.
Side 19 - Until her bosom must have made The bar she leaned on warm, And the lilies lay as if asleep Along her bended arm.
Side 129 - God bless us!" and "Amen" the other: As they had seen me with these hangman's hands. Listening their fear, I could not say "Amen" When they did say "God bless us!" Lady M. Consider it not so deeply. Macb. But wherefore could not I pronounce "Amen?" I had most need of blessing, and "Amen
Side 180 - You, I am sure, will forgive me for sincerely remarking that you might curb your magnanimity, and be more of an artist, and load every rift of your subject with ore.
Side 148 - Suck, little Babe, oh suck again ! It cools my blood ; it cools my brain ; Thy lips I feel them, Baby ! they Draw from my heart the pain away. Oh ! press me with thy little hand ; It loosens something at my chest ; About that tight and deadly band I feel thy little fingers prest. The breeze I see is in the tree ; It comes to cool my Babe and me.
Side 22 - Till in the end, the Day of Days, At Judgment, one of his own race, As frail and lost as you, shall rise, — His daughter, with his mother's eyes?

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