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(5 December 1830 – 29 December 1894 / London)

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A Better Ressurection

I have no wit, no words, no tears;
My heart within me like a stone
Is numbed too much for hopes or fears.
Look right, look left, I dwell alone;
I lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief
No everlasting hills I see;
My life is in the falling leaf:
O Jesus, quicken me.

My life is like a faded leaf,
My harvest dwindled to a husk:
Truly my life is void and brief
And tedious in the barren dusk;
My life is like a frozen thing,
No bud nor greenness can I see:
Yet rise it shall--the sap of spring;
O Jesus, rise in me.

My life is like a broken bowl,
A broken bowl that cannot hold
One drop of water for my soul
Or cordial in the searching cold;
Cast in the fire the perished thing;
Melt and remould it, till it be
A royal cup for Him, my King:
O Jesus, drink of me.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003


Read poems about / on: grief, spring, water, fire, alone, life, heart, rose, hope, fear

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Comments about this poem (A Frisky Lamb by Christina Georgina Rossetti )

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  • Reener Quejano (1/19/2010 8:09:00 PM)

    So Good.. God bless all those who read this poem..

    2 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Santana Marasco (4/21/2006 12:13:00 PM)

    Why isn't it scored higher?
    Perhaps they don't understand it.

  • Emma Beverage (3/22/2006 11:43:00 AM)

    Breathtaking and beautiful! I gave you a very well deserved 10! I collect the poems that really move me and I believe that this is the best poem I have read yet! I'm not counting the old authors that taught me to love poetry. This poem touched me as the old masters did. I copied the poem so I could comment specifically on the lines that struck me the hardest.

    A Better Resurrection


    I have no wit, no words, no tears;
    My heart within me like a stone
    Is numbed too much for hopes or fears.
    Look right, look left, I dwell alone;
    I lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief
    No everlasting hills I see;
    My life is in the falling leaf:
    O Jesus, quicken me.

    My life is like a faded leaf,
    My harvest dwindled to a husk:
    Truly my life is void and brief
    And tedious in the barren dusk;
    My life is like a frozen thing,
    No bud nor greenness can I see:
    Yet rise it shall-the sap of spring;
    O Jesus, rise in me.

    My life is like a broken bowl,
    A broken bowl that cannot hold
    One dropp of water for my soul
    Or cordial in the searching cold;
    Cast in the fire the perished thing;
    Melt and remold it, till it be
    A royal cup for Him, my King:
    O Jesus, drink of me.

    Oh what a liar I am! Upon rereading it I cannot see how to pull anything out because it all fits together so perfectly. What beautiful and unique expressions! It makes me want to memorize it and let it roll off my tongue as prayer! You have two typo's...Resurrection and remold. Other than that it is divinely inspired writing. I don't know why it has not been scored higher? Perhaps the other readers have never experienced sorrow or grief deep enough to understand. And yet this is a prayer of hope, not despair. Thank you for your wonderful poem. PS I caught a typo in my message to you so I had to redo my message. That made me find one more typo in your poem. Drop has two p’s in it and of course I know that you know there is only one.

    I have tried to submit this four times now! I made all the corrections in Microsoft Word including the corrections to your wonderful poem. After it displays, it shows two p's in drop. I know I have made that correction so I do not understand why it keeps showing up. It is a good thing that I save all my messages.

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