And win the fiery antidote:
560 Then joining hands to little hands
Would bid them cling together,
'For there is no friend like a sister
In calm or stormy weather;
To cheer one on the tedious way,
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147 8 / CHRISTINA ROSSETTI
565 To fetch one if one goes astray,
To lift one if one totters down,
To strengthen whilst one stands.'
1859 1862
'No, Thank You, John'
I never said I loved you, John:
Why will you teaze me day by day,
And wax a weariness to think upon
With always 'do' and 'pray'? 5 You know I never loved you, John;
No fault of mine made me your toast:
Why will you haunt me with a face as wan
As shows an hour-old ghost? I dare say Meg or Moll would take
io Pity upon you, if you'd ask:
And pray don't remain single for my sake
Who can't perform that task. I have no heart??Perhaps I have not;
But then you're mad to take offence
15 That I don't give you what I have not got:
Use your own common sense. Let bygones be bygones:
Don't call me false, who owed not to be true:
I'd rather answer 'No' to fifty Johns
20 Than answer 'Yes' to you. Let's mar our pleasant days no more,
Song-birds of passage, days of youth:
Catch at today, forget the days before: I'll wink? at your untruth. close (both) eyes
25 Let us strike hands as hearty friends;
No more, no less; and friendship's good:
Only don't keep in view ulterior ends,
And points not understood In open treaty. Rise above
so Quibbles and shuffling off and on:
Here's friendship for you if you like; but love,?
No, thank you, John.
1860 1862
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IN PROGRES S / 147 9 Promises Like Pie-Crust 510isPromise me no promises, So will I not promise you: Keep we both our liberties, Never false and never true: Let us hold the die uncast, Free to come as free to go: For I cannot know your past, And of mine what can you know? You, so warm, may once have been Warmer towards another one: I, so cold, may once have seen Sunlight, once have felt the sun: Who shall show us if it was Thus indeed in time of old? Fades the image from the glass, And the fortune is not told. 1861 20If you promised, you might grieve For lost liberty again: If I promised, I believe I should fret to break the chain. Let us be the friends we were, Nothing more but nothing less: Many thrive on frugal fare Who would perish of excess. 1896 In Progress Ten years ago it seemed impossible That she should ever grow so calm as this, With self-remembrance in her warmest kiss And dim dried eyes like an exhausted well. Slow-speaking when she has some fact to tell, Silent with long- unbroken silences, Centred in self yet not unpleased to please, Gravely monotonous like a passing bell.1 Mindful of drudging daily common things, Patient at pastime, patient at her work, Wearied perhaps but strenuous certainly. Sometimes I fancy we may one day see Her head shoot forth seven stars from where they lurk And her eyes lightnings and her shoulders wings. 1862 1896 1. Bell rung during or after a person's death, a death bell.
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148 0 / CHRISTINA ROSSETTI
