Dante Gabriel Rossetti

(12 May 1828 – 9 April 1882 / London / England)

Dante Gabriel Rossetti Poems

1. A Bad Omen 4/12/2010
2. A Bitter Song to His Lady 10/13/2015
3. A Death-Parting 4/12/2010
4. A Foretaste 4/12/2010
5. A Half-Way Pause 4/12/2010
6. A Last Confession 4/12/2010
7. A Little While 1/3/2003
8. A Match With The Moon 4/12/2010
9. A New-Year’s Burden 4/12/2010
10. A Prayer 4/12/2010
11. A Sea-Spell 1/3/2003
12. A Superscription 4/12/2010
13. A Young Fir-Wood 4/12/2010
14. Address To The Dalziel Brothers 4/12/2010
15. Adieu 4/12/2010
16. After The French Liberation Of Italy 4/12/2010
17. After The German Subjugation Of France, 1871 4/12/2010
18. Afterwards 4/12/2010
19. Alas, So Long! 4/12/2010
20. Almost Over 4/12/2010
21. An Altar-Flame 4/12/2010
22. An Epitaph For Keats 4/12/2010
23. An Old Song Ended 4/12/2010
24. Another Love 4/12/2010
25. Antwerp And Bruges 4/12/2010
26. Antwerp To Ghent 4/12/2010
27. Ashore At Dover 4/12/2010
28. Aspecta Medusa ( For A Drawing) 12/31/2002
29. Astarte Syriaca 4/12/2010
30. At Issue 4/12/2010
31. At The Station Of The Versailles Railway 4/12/2010
32. At The Sun-Rise In 1848 4/12/2010
33. Autumn Song 12/31/2002
34. Ave 4/12/2010
35. Bambino Fasciato 4/12/2010
36. Barcarola 4/12/2010
37. Barcarola (#2) 4/12/2010
38. Beauty And The Bird 4/12/2010
39. Between Ghent And Bruges 4/12/2010
40. Blake 4/12/2010
Best Poem of Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Silent Noon

Your hands lie open in the long fresh grass, --
The finger-points look through like rosy blooms:
Your eyes smile peace. The pasture gleams and glooms
'Neath billowing skies that scatter and amass.
All round our nest, far as the eye can pass,
Are golden kingcup-fields with silver edge
Where the cow-parsley skirts the hawthorn-hedge.
'Tis visible silence, still as the hour-glass.

Deep in the sun-searched growths the dragon-fly
Hangs like a blue thread loosened from the sky: --
So this wing'd hour is dropt to us from above.
Oh! clasp we to our ...

Read the full of Silent Noon

Xxxvi Life-In-Love

Not in thy body is thy life at all
But in this lady's lips and hands and eyes;
Through these she yields thee life that vivifies
What else were sorrow's servant and death's thrall.
Look on thyself without her, and recall
The waste remembrance and forlorn surmise
That liv'd but in a dead-drawn breath of sighs
O'er vanish'd hours and hours eventual.

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