Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895.
Dante Gabriel Rossetti 1828–82A Little While
RossetDGA
The hour yet bears for thee and me
Who have not drawn the veil to see
If still our heaven be lit above
Thou merely, at the day’s last sigh,
Hast felt thy soul prolong the tone;
And I have heard the night-wind cry
And deem’d its speech mine own.
The scattering autumn hoards for us
Whose bower is not yet ruinous
Nor quite unleav’d our songless grove.
Only across the shaken boughs
We hear the flood-tides seek the sea,
And deep in both our hearts they rouse
One wail for thee and me.
May yet be ours who have not said
The word it makes our eyes afraid
To know that each is thinking of.
Not yet the end: be our lips dumb
In smiles a little season yet:
I ’ll tell thee, when the end is come,
How we may best forget.