Dante Gabriel Rossetti

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

Dante Gabriel Rossetti Poems

281. An Altar-Flame 4/12/2010
282. A Half-Way Pause 4/12/2010
283. Sonnet Iii: Love's Testament 4/12/2010
284. The Stream's Secret 1/3/2003
285. Sonnet Iv: Lovesight 4/12/2010
286. Mary's Girlhood (For A Picture) 1/1/2004
287. Xix Lilent Noon 12/31/2002
288. Xcvii A Superscription 12/31/2002
289. Aspecta Medusa ( For A Drawing) 12/31/2002
290. Lxxi The Choice, I 12/31/2002
291. A Death-Parting 4/12/2010
292. At Issue 4/12/2010
293. Lxxii The Choice, Ii 12/31/2002
294. The Sonnet 1/3/2003
295. Love's Nocturn 1/1/2004
296. Xli Through Death To Love 12/31/2002
297. Xxix Heart's Heaven 12/31/2002
298. Lxvi The Heart Of The Night 12/31/2002
299. The Ballad Of Dead Ladies 1/3/2003
300. Almost Over 4/12/2010
301. Sister Helen 12/31/2002
302. A New-Year’s Burden 4/12/2010
303. The Woodspurge 12/31/2002
304. An Epitaph For Keats 4/12/2010
305. Sonnet Lxxviii: Body's Beauty 4/12/2010
306. Spring 1/3/2003
307. Song And Music 1/3/2003
308. My Sister's Sleep 12/31/2002
309. Xxxvi Life-In-Love 12/31/2002
310. From The House Of Life The Sonnet 1/1/2004
311. A Match With The Moon 4/12/2010
312. Love-Lily 1/1/2004
313. Lost On Both Sides 1/3/2003
314. Genius In Beauty 1/3/2003
315. A Foretaste 4/12/2010
316. Love's Nocturne 1/3/2003
317. Insomnia 12/31/2002
318. Woodspurge 1/3/2003
319. Dream-Land 1/3/2003
320. A Sea-Spell 1/3/2003

Comments about Dante Gabriel Rossetti

  • tsuchira ekimbo (10/3/2018 2:06:00 AM)

    what's the title of this sonnet?

    ye ladies, walking past me with piteous eyed,

    who is the lady that lies prostrate here?
    Can this be even she my heart holds dear?
    Nay, if it be so, speak, and nothing hide.

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  • Ian Fraser (11/30/2011 6:16:00 PM)

    Sort out the genuine from the glib and cliché-ridden and you will find some good poetry, but it's hard graft. Rossetti is the perfect example of a poet who had immense facility with language. Always ask to what end it is put, however...

Best Poem of Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Autumn Song

Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the heart feels a languid grief
Laid on it for a covering,
And how sleep seems a goodly thing
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?

And how the swift beat of the brain
Falters because it is in vain,
In Autumn at the fall of the leaf
Knowest thou not? and how the chief
Of joys seems—not to suffer pain?

Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf
How the soul feels like a dried sheaf
Bound up at length for harvesting,
And how death seems a comely thing

Read the full of Autumn Song

The Woodspurge

The wind flapp'd loose, the wind was still,
Shaken out dead from tree and hill:
I had walk'd on at the wind's will,--
I sat now, for the wind was still.

Between my knees my forehead was,--
My lips, drawn in, said not Alas!
My hair was over in the grass,
My naked ears heard the day pass.

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