Christina Georgina Rossetti (1830–1894)

PASSING away, saith the World, passing away:

Chances, beauty and youth sapp’d day by day:

Thy life never continueth in one stay.

Is the eye waxen dim, is the dark hair changing to gray

That hath won neither laurel nor bay?

I shall clothe myself in Spring and bud in May:

Thou, root-stricken, shalt not rebuild thy decay

On my bosom for aye.

Then I answer’d: Yea.

Passing away, saith my Soul, passing away:

With its burden of fear and hope, of labour and play,

Hearken what the past doth witness and say:

Rust in thy gold, a moth is in thine array,

A canker is in thy bud, thy leaf must decay.

At midnight, at cockcrow, at morning, one certain day,

Lo, the Bridegroom shall come and shall not delay:

Watch thou and pray.

Then I answer’d: Yea.

Passing away, saith my God, passing away:

Winter passeth after the long delay:

New grapes on the vine, new figs on the tender spray,

Turtle calleth turtle in Heaven’s May.

Though I tarry, wait for me, trust me, watch and pray.

Arise, come away; night is past, and lo, it is day;

My love, my sister, my spouse, thou shalt hear me say—

Then I answer’d: Yea.