https://sonett.fontane-place.de/ Sat, 27 Jun 2026 10:50:35 +0000 MyBB https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17448 Sun, 28 Oct 2007 12:24:11 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17448
ARISE, depart, for this is not your rest.'
Oh burden of all burdens, still to arise
And still depart, nor rest in any wise !
Rolling, still rolling thus to east from west
Earth journeys on her immemorial quest,
Whom a moon chases in no different guise.
Thus stars pursue their courses, and thus flies
The sun, and thus all creatures manifest
Unrest the common heritage, the ban
Flung broadcast on all human kind, on all
Who live ; for living, all are bound to die :
That which is old, we know that it is man :
These have no rest who sit and dream and sigh,
Nor have those rest who wrestle and who fall.]]>
ARISE, depart, for this is not your rest.'
Oh burden of all burdens, still to arise
And still depart, nor rest in any wise !
Rolling, still rolling thus to east from west
Earth journeys on her immemorial quest,
Whom a moon chases in no different guise.
Thus stars pursue their courses, and thus flies
The sun, and thus all creatures manifest
Unrest the common heritage, the ban
Flung broadcast on all human kind, on all
Who live ; for living, all are bound to die :
That which is old, we know that it is man :
These have no rest who sit and dream and sigh,
Nor have those rest who wrestle and who fall.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17447 Sun, 28 Oct 2007 12:23:32 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17447
WHY should I call Thee Lord, who art my God ?
Why should I call Thee Friend, who art my Love ?
Or King, who art my very Spouse above ?
Or call Thy Sceptre on my heart Thy rod ?
Lo, now Thy banner over me is love,
All heaven flies open to me at Thy nod :
For Thou hast lit Thy flame in me a clod,
Made me a nest for dwelling of Thy Dove.
What wilt Thou call me in our home above,
Who now hast called me friend ? how will it be
When Thou for good wine settest forth the best ?
Now Thou dost bid me come and sup with Thee,
Now Thou dost make me lean upon Thy breast :
How will it be with me in time of love ?]]>
WHY should I call Thee Lord, who art my God ?
Why should I call Thee Friend, who art my Love ?
Or King, who art my very Spouse above ?
Or call Thy Sceptre on my heart Thy rod ?
Lo, now Thy banner over me is love,
All heaven flies open to me at Thy nod :
For Thou hast lit Thy flame in me a clod,
Made me a nest for dwelling of Thy Dove.
What wilt Thou call me in our home above,
Who now hast called me friend ? how will it be
When Thou for good wine settest forth the best ?
Now Thou dost bid me come and sup with Thee,
Now Thou dost make me lean upon Thy breast :
How will it be with me in time of love ?]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17446 Sun, 28 Oct 2007 12:22:08 +0100 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=17446
O EARTH, lie heavily upon her eyes;
Seal her sweet eyes weary of watching, Earth;
Lie close around her ; leave no room for mirth
With its harsh laughter, nor for sound of sighs.
She hath no questions, she hath no replies,
Hushed in and curtained with a blessed dearth
Of all that irked her from the hour of birth ;
With stillness that is almost Paradise.
Darkness more clear than noonday holdeth her,
Silence more musical than any song ;
Even her very heart has ceased to stir :
Until the morning of Eternity
Her rest shall not begin nor end, but be ;
And when she wakes she will not think it long.]]>
O EARTH, lie heavily upon her eyes;
Seal her sweet eyes weary of watching, Earth;
Lie close around her ; leave no room for mirth
With its harsh laughter, nor for sound of sighs.
She hath no questions, she hath no replies,
Hushed in and curtained with a blessed dearth
Of all that irked her from the hour of birth ;
With stillness that is almost Paradise.
Darkness more clear than noonday holdeth her,
Silence more musical than any song ;
Even her very heart has ceased to stir :
Until the morning of Eternity
Her rest shall not begin nor end, but be ;
And when she wakes she will not think it long.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=15256 Sun, 23 Sep 2007 12:58:54 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=15256 Has many sonnets: so here now shall be
One sonnet more, a love sonnet, from me
To her whose heart is my heart's quiet home,

To my first Love, my Mother, on whose knee
I learnt love-lore that is not troublesome;
Whose service is my special dignity,
And she my loadstar while I go and come

And so because you love me, and because
I love you, Mother, I have woven a wreath
Of rhymes wherewith to crown your honored name:

In you not fourscore years can dim the flame
Of love, whose blessed glow transcends the laws
Of time and change and mortal life and death.]]> Has many sonnets: so here now shall be
One sonnet more, a love sonnet, from me
To her whose heart is my heart's quiet home,

To my first Love, my Mother, on whose knee
I learnt love-lore that is not troublesome;
Whose service is my special dignity,
And she my loadstar while I go and come

And so because you love me, and because
I love you, Mother, I have woven a wreath
Of rhymes wherewith to crown your honored name:

In you not fourscore years can dim the flame
Of love, whose blessed glow transcends the laws
Of time and change and mortal life and death.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=15255 Sun, 23 Sep 2007 12:58:36 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=15255
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.

Remember me when no more, day by day,
You tell me of our future that you plann'd:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.

Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave

A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.]]>
Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.

Remember me when no more, day by day,
You tell me of our future that you plann'd:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.

Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave

A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=15254 Sun, 23 Sep 2007 12:58:17 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=15254
One face looks out from all his canvases,
One selfsame figure sits or walks or leans:
We found her hidden just behind those screens,
That mirror gave back all her loveliness.

A queen in opal or in ruby dress,
A nameless girl in freshest summer-greens,
A saint, an angel – every canvas means
The same one meaning, neither more nor less.

He feeds upon her face by day and night,
And she with true kind eyes looks back on him,
Fair as the moon and joyful as the light:

Not wan with waiting, not with sorrow dim;
Not as she is, but was when hope shone bright;
Not as she is, but as she fills his dream.]]>
One face looks out from all his canvases,
One selfsame figure sits or walks or leans:
We found her hidden just behind those screens,
That mirror gave back all her loveliness.

A queen in opal or in ruby dress,
A nameless girl in freshest summer-greens,
A saint, an angel – every canvas means
The same one meaning, neither more nor less.

He feeds upon her face by day and night,
And she with true kind eyes looks back on him,
Fair as the moon and joyful as the light:

Not wan with waiting, not with sorrow dim;
Not as she is, but was when hope shone bright;
Not as she is, but as she fills his dream.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=15257 Sun, 23 Sep 2007 12:57:54 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=15257
The curtains were half drawn, the floor was swept
And strewn with rushes, rosemary and may
Lay thick upon the bed on which I lay,
Where through the lattice ivy-shadows crept.

He leaned above me, thinking that I slept
And could not hear him; but I heard him say:
‘Poor child, poor child:’ and as he turned away
Came a deep silence, and I knew he wept.

He did not touch the shroud, or raise the fold
That hid my face, or take my hand in his,
Or ruffle the smooth pillows for my head:

He did not love me living; but once dead
He pitied me; and very sweet it is
To know he still is warm though I am cold.]]>
The curtains were half drawn, the floor was swept
And strewn with rushes, rosemary and may
Lay thick upon the bed on which I lay,
Where through the lattice ivy-shadows crept.

He leaned above me, thinking that I slept
And could not hear him; but I heard him say:
‘Poor child, poor child:’ and as he turned away
Came a deep silence, and I knew he wept.

He did not touch the shroud, or raise the fold
That hid my face, or take my hand in his,
Or ruffle the smooth pillows for my head:

He did not love me living; but once dead
He pitied me; and very sweet it is
To know he still is warm though I am cold.]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=15258 Sun, 23 Sep 2007 12:57:22 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=15258
The irresponsive silence of the land,
The irresponsive sounding of the sea,
Speak both one message of one sense to me: -
Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so stand

Thou too aloof bound with the flawless band
Of inner solitude; we bind not thee;
But who from thy self-chain shall set thee free?
What heart shall touch thy heart? What hand thy hand?

And I am sometimes proud and sometimes meek,
And sometimes I remember days of old
When fellowship seemed not so far to seek

And all the world and I seemed much less cold,
And at the rainbow’s foot lay surely gold,
And hope felt strong and life itself not weak.


Thread of Life 2

Thus am I mine own prison. Everything
Around me free and sunny and at ease:
Or if in shadow, in a shade of trees
Which the sun kisses, where the gay birds sing

And where all winds make various murmuring;
Where bees are found, with honey for the bees;
Where sounds are music, and where silences
Are music of an unlike fashioning.

Then gaze I at the merrymaking crew,
And smile a moment and a moment sigh
Thinking: why can I not rejoice with you?

But soon I put the foolish fancy by:
I am not what I have nor what I do;
But what I was I am, I am even I.


Thread of Life 3

Therefore myself is that one lonely thing
I hold to use or waste, to keep or give;
My sole possession every day I live,
And still mine own, despite Time’s winnowing,

Ever mine own, while moons and seasons bring
From crudeness ripeness mellow and sanitive;
Ever mine own, till Death shall ply his sieve;
And still mine own, when saints break grave and sing.

And this myself as king onto my King
I give to Him Who gave Himself for me;
Who gives Himself to me, and bids me sing

A sweet new song of His redeemed set free;
He bids me sing: O death, where is thy sting?
And sing: O grave, where is thy victory?]]>
The irresponsive silence of the land,
The irresponsive sounding of the sea,
Speak both one message of one sense to me: -
Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so stand

Thou too aloof bound with the flawless band
Of inner solitude; we bind not thee;
But who from thy self-chain shall set thee free?
What heart shall touch thy heart? What hand thy hand?

And I am sometimes proud and sometimes meek,
And sometimes I remember days of old
When fellowship seemed not so far to seek

And all the world and I seemed much less cold,
And at the rainbow’s foot lay surely gold,
And hope felt strong and life itself not weak.


Thread of Life 2

Thus am I mine own prison. Everything
Around me free and sunny and at ease:
Or if in shadow, in a shade of trees
Which the sun kisses, where the gay birds sing

And where all winds make various murmuring;
Where bees are found, with honey for the bees;
Where sounds are music, and where silences
Are music of an unlike fashioning.

Then gaze I at the merrymaking crew,
And smile a moment and a moment sigh
Thinking: why can I not rejoice with you?

But soon I put the foolish fancy by:
I am not what I have nor what I do;
But what I was I am, I am even I.


Thread of Life 3

Therefore myself is that one lonely thing
I hold to use or waste, to keep or give;
My sole possession every day I live,
And still mine own, despite Time’s winnowing,

Ever mine own, while moons and seasons bring
From crudeness ripeness mellow and sanitive;
Ever mine own, till Death shall ply his sieve;
And still mine own, when saints break grave and sing.

And this myself as king onto my King
I give to Him Who gave Himself for me;
Who gives Himself to me, and bids me sing

A sweet new song of His redeemed set free;
He bids me sing: O death, where is thy sting?
And sing: O grave, where is thy victory?]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=15259 Sun, 23 Sep 2007 12:56:43 +0200 ZaunköniG]]> https://sonett.fontane-place.de/showthread.php?tid=15259
Come back to me, who wait and watch for you: -
Or come not yet, for it is over then,
And long it is before you come again,
So far between my pleasures are and few.

While, when you come not, what I do I do
Thinking ‘Now when he comes,’ my sweetest ‘when:’
For one man is my world of all the men
This wide world holds; O love, my world is you.

Howbeit, to meet you grows almost a pang
Because the pang of parting comes so soon;
My hope hangs waning, waxing, like a moon

Between the heavenly days on which we meet:
Ah me, but where are now the songs I sang
When life was sweet because you called them sweet?


Monna Innominata 02.

I wish I could remember that first day,
First hour, first moment of your meeting me,
If bright or dim the season, it might be
Summer or Winter for aught that I can say;

So unrecorded did it slip away,
So blind was I to see and to foresee,
So dull to mark the budding of my tree
That would not blossom yet for many a May.

If only I could recollect it, such
A day of days! I let it come and go
As traceless as a thaw of bygone snow;

It seemed to mean so little, meant so much;
If only now I could recall that touch,
First touch of hand in hand – did one but know!


Monna Innominata 03

I dream of you to wake: would that I might
Dream of you and not wake but slumber on;
Nor find with dreams the dear companion gone,
As Summer ended Summer birds take flight.

In happy dreams I hold you full in sight,
I blush again who waking look so wan;
Brighter than sunniest day that ever shone,
In happy dreams your smile makes day of night.

Thus only in a dream we are at one,
Thus only in a dream we give and take
The faith that maketh rich who take or give;

If thus to sleep is sweeter than to wake,
To die were surely sweeter than to live,
Though there nothing new beneath the sun.


Monna Innominata 04

I loved you first: but afterwards your love
Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song
As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove.
Which owes the other most? my love was long,

And yours one moment semed to wax more strong;
I loved and guessed at you, you construed me
And loved me for what might or might not be –
Nay, weights and measures do us both a wrong.

For verily love knows not ‘mine’ or ‘thine;’
With separate ‘I’ and ‘thou’ free love has done,
For one is both and both are one in love:

Rich love knows nought of ‘thine that is not mine;’
Both have the strenght and both the length therof,
Both of us, of the love which makes us one.


Monna Innominata 05

O my heart’s heart, and you who are to me
More than myself myself, God be with you,
Keep you in strong obedience leal and true
To Him whose noble service setteth free,

Give you all good we see or can foresee,
Make your joys many and your sorrows few,
Bless you in what you bear and what you do,
Yea, perfect you as he would have you be.

So much for you; but what for me, dear friend?
To love you without stint and all I can
Today, tomorrow, world without an end;

To love you much and yet to love you more,
As Jordan at his flood sweeps either shore;
Since woman is the helpmeet made for man.


Monna Innominata 06

Trust me, I have not earned your dear rebuke,
I love, as you would have me, God the most;
Would lose not Him, but you, must one be lost,
Nor with Lot’s wife cast back a faithless look

Unready to forego what I forsook;
This say I, having counted up the cost,
This, though I be the feeblest of God’s host,
The sorriest sheep Christ shepherts with His crook.

Yet while I love my God the most, I deem
That I can never love you overmuch;
I love Him more, so let me love you too;

Yea, as I apprehend it, love is such
I cannot love you if I love not Him,
I cannot love Him if I love not you.


Monna Innominata 07

‘Love me, for I love you’ – and answer me,
‘Love me, for I love you’ – so shall we stand
As happy equals in the flowering land
Of love, that knows not a dividing sea.

Love builds the house on rock and not on sand,
Love laughs what while the winds rave desperately;
And who hath found love’s citadel unmanned?
And who hath held in bonds love’s liberty?

My heart’s a coward though my words are brave –
we meet so seldom, yet we surely part
So often; there’s a problem for your art!

Still I finf comfort in his Book, who saith,
Though jealousy be cruel as the grave,
And death be strong, yet love is strong as death.


Monna Innominata 08

‘I, if I perish, perish’ – Esther spake:
And bride ofe life or death she made her fair
In all the lustre of her perfumed hair
And smiles that kindle longing but to slake.

She put on pomp of loveliness, to take
Her husband through his eyes at unaware;
She spread abroad her beauty for a snare,
Harmless as doves and subtle as a snake.

She trapped him with one mesh of silken hair,
She vanquished him by wisdom of her wit,
And built her people’s house that it should stand: -

If I might take my life so in my hand,
And for my love to Love put up my prayer,
And for love’s sake by Love be granted it!


Monna Innominata 09

Thinking of you, and all that was, and all
That might have been and now can never be,
I feel your honoured excellence, and see
Myself unworthy of the happier call:

For woe is me who walk so apt to fall,
So apt to shrink afraid, so apt to flee,
Apt to lie down and die (ah, woe is me!)
Faithless and hopeless turning to the wall.

And yet not hopeless quite nor faithless quite,
Because not loveless; love may toil all night,
But take at morning; wrestle till the break

Of day, but then wield power with God and man: -
So take I heart of grace as best I can,
Ready to spend and be spent for your sake.


Monna Innominata 10

Time flies, hope flags, life plies a wearing wing;
Death following hard on life gains ground apace;
Faith runs with each and rears an eager face,
Outruns the rest, makes light of everything,

Spurns earth, and still finds breath to pray and sing;
While love ahead of all uplifts his praise,
Still asks for grace and still gives thanks for grace,
Content with all day brings and night will bring.

Life wanes; and when love folds his wings above
Tired hope, and less we feel his conscious pulse,
Let us fall asleep, dear friend, in peace:

A little while, and age and sorrow cease;
A little while, and life reborn annuls
Loss and decay and death, and all is love.


Monna Innominata 11

Many in aftertimes will say of you
‘He loved her’ – while of me what will they say?
Not that I loved you more than just in play,
For fashion’s sake as idle woman do.

Even let them prate; who know not what we knew
Of love and parting in exceeding pain,
Of parting hopeless here to meet again,
Hopeless on earth. and heaven is out of view.

But my heart of love laid bare to you,
My love that you can make not void nor vain,
Love that foregoes you but to claim anew

Beyond this passage of the gate of death,
I charge you at the Judgment make it plain
My love of you was life and not a breath.


Monna Innominata 12

If there be any one can take my place
And make you happy whom I grieve to grieve,
Think not that I can grudge it, but believe
I do commend you to that nobler grace,

That readier wit than mine, that sweeter face;
Yea, since your riches make me rich, conceive
I too am crowned, while bridal crowns I weave,
And thread the bridal dance with jocund pace.

For if I did not love you, it might be
That I should grudge you some one dear delight;
But since the heart is yours that was mine own,

Your pleasure is my pleasure, right my right,
Your honourable freedom makes me free,
And you companioned I am not alone.


Monna Innominata 13

If I could trust mine own self with your fate,
Shall I not rather trust in God’s hand?
Without Whose Will one lily doth not stand,
Nor sparrow fall at his appointed date;

Who numbereth the innumerable sand,
Who weighs the wind and water with a weight,
To Whom the world is neighter small nor great,
Whose knowledge foreknow every plan we planed.

Searching my heart for all that touches you,
I find there only love and love’s goodwill
Helpless to help and impotent to do,

Of understanding dull, of sight most dim;
And therefore I commend you back to Him
Whose love your love’s capacity can fill.


Monna Innominata 14

Youth gone, and beauty gone if ever there
Dwelt beauty in so poor a face as this;
Youth gone and beauty, what remains of bliss?
I will not bind fresh roses in my hair,

To shame a cheek at best but little fair, -
Leave youth his roses, who can bear a thorn, -
I will not seek for blossoms anywhere,
Except such common flowers as blow with corn.

Youth gone and beauty gone, what doth remain?
The longing of a heart pent up forlorn,
A silent heart whose silence loves and longs;

The silence of a heart which sang its songs
While youth and beauty made a summer morn,
Silence of love that cannot sing again.]]>
Come back to me, who wait and watch for you: -
Or come not yet, for it is over then,
And long it is before you come again,
So far between my pleasures are and few.

While, when you come not, what I do I do
Thinking ‘Now when he comes,’ my sweetest ‘when:’
For one man is my world of all the men
This wide world holds; O love, my world is you.

Howbeit, to meet you grows almost a pang
Because the pang of parting comes so soon;
My hope hangs waning, waxing, like a moon

Between the heavenly days on which we meet:
Ah me, but where are now the songs I sang
When life was sweet because you called them sweet?


Monna Innominata 02.

I wish I could remember that first day,
First hour, first moment of your meeting me,
If bright or dim the season, it might be
Summer or Winter for aught that I can say;

So unrecorded did it slip away,
So blind was I to see and to foresee,
So dull to mark the budding of my tree
That would not blossom yet for many a May.

If only I could recollect it, such
A day of days! I let it come and go
As traceless as a thaw of bygone snow;

It seemed to mean so little, meant so much;
If only now I could recall that touch,
First touch of hand in hand – did one but know!


Monna Innominata 03

I dream of you to wake: would that I might
Dream of you and not wake but slumber on;
Nor find with dreams the dear companion gone,
As Summer ended Summer birds take flight.

In happy dreams I hold you full in sight,
I blush again who waking look so wan;
Brighter than sunniest day that ever shone,
In happy dreams your smile makes day of night.

Thus only in a dream we are at one,
Thus only in a dream we give and take
The faith that maketh rich who take or give;

If thus to sleep is sweeter than to wake,
To die were surely sweeter than to live,
Though there nothing new beneath the sun.


Monna Innominata 04

I loved you first: but afterwards your love
Outsoaring mine, sang such a loftier song
As drowned the friendly cooings of my dove.
Which owes the other most? my love was long,

And yours one moment semed to wax more strong;
I loved and guessed at you, you construed me
And loved me for what might or might not be –
Nay, weights and measures do us both a wrong.

For verily love knows not ‘mine’ or ‘thine;’
With separate ‘I’ and ‘thou’ free love has done,
For one is both and both are one in love:

Rich love knows nought of ‘thine that is not mine;’
Both have the strenght and both the length therof,
Both of us, of the love which makes us one.


Monna Innominata 05

O my heart’s heart, and you who are to me
More than myself myself, God be with you,
Keep you in strong obedience leal and true
To Him whose noble service setteth free,

Give you all good we see or can foresee,
Make your joys many and your sorrows few,
Bless you in what you bear and what you do,
Yea, perfect you as he would have you be.

So much for you; but what for me, dear friend?
To love you without stint and all I can
Today, tomorrow, world without an end;

To love you much and yet to love you more,
As Jordan at his flood sweeps either shore;
Since woman is the helpmeet made for man.


Monna Innominata 06

Trust me, I have not earned your dear rebuke,
I love, as you would have me, God the most;
Would lose not Him, but you, must one be lost,
Nor with Lot’s wife cast back a faithless look

Unready to forego what I forsook;
This say I, having counted up the cost,
This, though I be the feeblest of God’s host,
The sorriest sheep Christ shepherts with His crook.

Yet while I love my God the most, I deem
That I can never love you overmuch;
I love Him more, so let me love you too;

Yea, as I apprehend it, love is such
I cannot love you if I love not Him,
I cannot love Him if I love not you.


Monna Innominata 07

‘Love me, for I love you’ – and answer me,
‘Love me, for I love you’ – so shall we stand
As happy equals in the flowering land
Of love, that knows not a dividing sea.

Love builds the house on rock and not on sand,
Love laughs what while the winds rave desperately;
And who hath found love’s citadel unmanned?
And who hath held in bonds love’s liberty?

My heart’s a coward though my words are brave –
we meet so seldom, yet we surely part
So often; there’s a problem for your art!

Still I finf comfort in his Book, who saith,
Though jealousy be cruel as the grave,
And death be strong, yet love is strong as death.


Monna Innominata 08

‘I, if I perish, perish’ – Esther spake:
And bride ofe life or death she made her fair
In all the lustre of her perfumed hair
And smiles that kindle longing but to slake.

She put on pomp of loveliness, to take
Her husband through his eyes at unaware;
She spread abroad her beauty for a snare,
Harmless as doves and subtle as a snake.

She trapped him with one mesh of silken hair,
She vanquished him by wisdom of her wit,
And built her people’s house that it should stand: -

If I might take my life so in my hand,
And for my love to Love put up my prayer,
And for love’s sake by Love be granted it!


Monna Innominata 09

Thinking of you, and all that was, and all
That might have been and now can never be,
I feel your honoured excellence, and see
Myself unworthy of the happier call:

For woe is me who walk so apt to fall,
So apt to shrink afraid, so apt to flee,
Apt to lie down and die (ah, woe is me!)
Faithless and hopeless turning to the wall.

And yet not hopeless quite nor faithless quite,
Because not loveless; love may toil all night,
But take at morning; wrestle till the break

Of day, but then wield power with God and man: -
So take I heart of grace as best I can,
Ready to spend and be spent for your sake.


Monna Innominata 10

Time flies, hope flags, life plies a wearing wing;
Death following hard on life gains ground apace;
Faith runs with each and rears an eager face,
Outruns the rest, makes light of everything,

Spurns earth, and still finds breath to pray and sing;
While love ahead of all uplifts his praise,
Still asks for grace and still gives thanks for grace,
Content with all day brings and night will bring.

Life wanes; and when love folds his wings above
Tired hope, and less we feel his conscious pulse,
Let us fall asleep, dear friend, in peace:

A little while, and age and sorrow cease;
A little while, and life reborn annuls
Loss and decay and death, and all is love.


Monna Innominata 11

Many in aftertimes will say of you
‘He loved her’ – while of me what will they say?
Not that I loved you more than just in play,
For fashion’s sake as idle woman do.

Even let them prate; who know not what we knew
Of love and parting in exceeding pain,
Of parting hopeless here to meet again,
Hopeless on earth. and heaven is out of view.

But my heart of love laid bare to you,
My love that you can make not void nor vain,
Love that foregoes you but to claim anew

Beyond this passage of the gate of death,
I charge you at the Judgment make it plain
My love of you was life and not a breath.


Monna Innominata 12

If there be any one can take my place
And make you happy whom I grieve to grieve,
Think not that I can grudge it, but believe
I do commend you to that nobler grace,

That readier wit than mine, that sweeter face;
Yea, since your riches make me rich, conceive
I too am crowned, while bridal crowns I weave,
And thread the bridal dance with jocund pace.

For if I did not love you, it might be
That I should grudge you some one dear delight;
But since the heart is yours that was mine own,

Your pleasure is my pleasure, right my right,
Your honourable freedom makes me free,
And you companioned I am not alone.


Monna Innominata 13

If I could trust mine own self with your fate,
Shall I not rather trust in God’s hand?
Without Whose Will one lily doth not stand,
Nor sparrow fall at his appointed date;

Who numbereth the innumerable sand,
Who weighs the wind and water with a weight,
To Whom the world is neighter small nor great,
Whose knowledge foreknow every plan we planed.

Searching my heart for all that touches you,
I find there only love and love’s goodwill
Helpless to help and impotent to do,

Of understanding dull, of sight most dim;
And therefore I commend you back to Him
Whose love your love’s capacity can fill.


Monna Innominata 14

Youth gone, and beauty gone if ever there
Dwelt beauty in so poor a face as this;
Youth gone and beauty, what remains of bliss?
I will not bind fresh roses in my hair,

To shame a cheek at best but little fair, -
Leave youth his roses, who can bear a thorn, -
I will not seek for blossoms anywhere,
Except such common flowers as blow with corn.

Youth gone and beauty gone, what doth remain?
The longing of a heart pent up forlorn,
A silent heart whose silence loves and longs;

The silence of a heart which sang its songs
While youth and beauty made a summer morn,
Silence of love that cannot sing again.]]>