Ballads and Sonnets (1881), proof Signature M (Delaware Museum, first author's proof, copy 1) Dante Gabriel Rossetti 1 Text courtesy of The Delaware Art Museum Ballads and Sonnets Dante Gabriel Rossetti F. S. Ellis Chiswick Press, C. Whittingham and Co. London 1881 April 25 proof [161]-176 1 DGR M8 Library, Delaware Art Museum 10 point; 6 point leading roman 17 2 cm 3.8 cm 2 cm 2.5 cm 19 x 12.8cm (crown octavo) Commentary
Introduction

This is a complete copy (dated 25 April 1881) of the first author's proof of Signature M of the <xref doc="a.2-1881.raw">Ballads and Sonnets</xref> volume. Notable here is DGR's correction of the running heads, which he marks so that the sonnet titles run on the rectos and the title of the whole sequence on the versos (see page 164). But the proof is even more notable for DGR's note on page 163. This proof came to DGR along with Signature N on 25 April. The note to the printer on page 163 shows that both of these signatures were directed for major redesign, with one sonnet to be printed on each page. In the first proofs for Signatures M and N, the sonnets ran over to the versos so that on Signature M only seven sonnets plus the Introductory sonnet were first printed, and on Signature N only eight sonnets were printed.

Textual History: Composition

Textual History: Revision

In addition to this complete initial author's proof, the library of the Delaware Museum of Art has as well a revise of the first proof that incorporates DGR's corrections. The British Library proofs have another copy of revise proofs for this signature (dated 28 April). This BL proof exhibits the change DGR called for on page 163 of this proof.

Printing History

Reception History

Historical

Literary

Translation

Autobiographical

Bibliographic

M The signature letter is added here in manuscript. 1 Printer's proof number added in upper left. [Charles Whittingham's printer date stamp, 25 Apr.81] A Sonnet is a moment's monument,— Memorial from the Soul's eternity To one dead deathless hour. Look that it be, Whether for lustral rite or dire portent, Of its own arduous fulness reverent: Carve it in ivory or in ebony, As Day or Night may rule; and let Time see Its flowering crest impearled and orient. A Sonnet is a coin: its face reveals The soul,—its converse, to what Power 'tis due:— Whether for tribute to the august appeals Of Life, or dower in Love's high retinue, It serve; or,'mid the dark wharf's cavernous breath, In Charon's palm it pay the toll to Death. blank page Each sonnet must occupy one page only, even if the lines are closer together. DGR's note to the printer. <hi rend="center"> <hi rend="c">PART I. YOUTH AND CHANGE.</hi> </hi> <hi rend="center"> <hi rend="c">SONNET I</hi> </hi>.<lb/> <lb/> <hi rend="c"> <hi rend="center">LOVE ENTHRONED</hi> </hi>. I marked all kindred Powers the heart finds fair:— Truth, with awed lips; and Hope, with eyes up- cast; And Fame, whose loud wings fan the ashen Past To signal-fires, Oblivion's flight to scare; And Youth, with still some single golden hair Unto his shoulder clinging, since the last Embrace wherein two sweet arms held him fast; And Life, still wreathing flowers for Death to wear. LOVE ENTHRONED The House of Life all along the top lines DGR's note to the printer for printing the running heads. Love's throne was not with these; but far above All passionate wind of welcome and farewell He sat in breathless bowers they dream not of; Though Truth foreknow Love's heart, and Hope foretell, And Fame be for Love's sake desirable, And Youth be dear, and Life be sweet to Love. BRIDAL BIRTH DGR cancels the running head to indicate the printing design to be followed (see DGR's note to the running head on page 164). <hi rend="center"> <hi rend="c">SONNET II</hi> </hi>.<lb/> <lb/> <hi rend="c"> <hi rend="center">BRIDAL BIRTH</hi> </hi>. As when desire, long darkling, dawns, and first The mother looks upon the newborn child, Even so my Lady stood at gaze and smiled When her soul knew at length the Love it nurse 'd. Born with her life, creature of poignant thirst And exquisite hunger, at her heart Love lay Quickening in darkness, till a voice that day Cried on him, and the bonds of birth were burst. Now, shadowed by his wings, our faces yearn Together, as his fullgrown feet now range BRIDAL BIRTH DGR cancels the running header, as above. The grove, and his warm hands our couch pre- pare: Till to his song our bodiless souls in turn Be born his children, when Death's nuptial change Leaves us for light the halo of his hair. LOVE'S TESTAMENT DGR cancels the running header <hi rend="c"> <hi rend="center">SONNET III</hi> </hi>.<lb/> <lb/> <hi rend="c"> <hi rend="center">LOVE'S TESTAMENT</hi> </hi>. O thou who at Love's hour ecstatically Unto my heart dost evermore present, Clothed with his fire, thy heart his testament; Whom I have neared and felt thy breath to be The inmost incense of his S sanctuary; Who without speech hast owned him, and, intent Upon his will, thy life with mine hast blent, And murmured, “I am thine, thou'rt one with me!” O what from thee the grace, to me the prize, And what to Love the glory,—when the whole Of the deep stair thou tread'st to the dim shoal And weary water of the place of sighs, And there dost work deliverance, as thine eyes Draw up my prisoned spirit to thy soul! <hi rend="c"> <hi rend="center">SONNET IV</hi> </hi>.<lb/> <lb/> <hi rend="center"> <hi rend="c">LOVESIGHT</hi> </hi>. When do I see thee most, beloved one? When in the light the spirits of mine eyes Before thy face, their altar, solemnize The worship of that Love through thee made known? Or when in the dusk hours, (we two alone,) Close-kissed and eloquent of still replies Thy twilight-hidden glimmering visage lies, And my soul only sees thy soul its own? O love, my love! if I no more should see Thyself, nor on the earth the shadow of thee, Running header corrected from “LOVELIGHT” to “LOVESIGHT”. Nor image of thine eyes in any spring,— How then should sound upon Life's darkening slope The ground-whirl of the perished leaves of Hope, The wind of Death's imperishable wing? DGR corrects the running header <hi rend="center"> <hi rend="c">SONNET V</hi> </hi>.<lb/> <lb/> <hi rend="center"> <hi rend="c">HEART'S HOPE</hi> </hi>. By what word's power, the key of paths untrod, Shall I the difficult deeps of Love explore, Till parted waves of Song yield up the shore Even as that sea which Israel crossed dryshod? For lo! in some poor rhythmic period, Lady, I fain would tell how evermore Thy soul I know not from thy body, nor Thee from myself, neither our love from God. Yea, in God's name, and Love's, and thine, would I Draw from one loving heart such evidence As to all hearts all things shall signify; Tender as dawn's first hill-fire, and intense As instantaneous penetrating sense, In s Spring's birth-hour, of other Springs gone by. X Printer's mark beside line 4 indicating broken type. <hi rend="center"> <hi rend="c">SONNET VI</hi> </hi>.<lb/> <lb/> <hi rend="center"> <hi rend="c">THE KISS</hi> </hi>. What smouldering senses in death's sick delay Or seizure of malign vicissitude Can rob this body of honour, or denude This soul of wedding-raiment worn to-day? For lo! even now my lady's lips did play With these my lips such consonant interlude As laurelled Orpheus longed for when he wooed The half-drawn hungering face with that last lay. I was a child beneath her touch,—a man When breast to breast we clung, even I and she,— A spirit when her spirit looked through me,— A god when all our life-breath met to fan Our life-blood, till love's emulous ardours ran, Fire within fire, desire in deity. <hi rend="center"> <hi rend="c">SONNET VII</hi> </hi>.<lb/> <lb/> <hi rend="center"> <hi rend="c">SUPREME SURRENDER</hi> </hi>. To all the spirits of Love that wander by Along his love-sown harvest-field of sleep My lady lies apparent; and the deep Calls to the deep; and no man sees but I. The bliss so long afar, at length so nigh, Rests there attained. Methinks proud Love must weep When Fate's control doth from his harvest reap The sacred hour for which the years did sigh. First touched, the hand now warm around my neck Taught memory long to mock desire: and lo! Across my breast the abandoned hair doth flow, Where one shorn tress long stirred the longing ache: And next the heart that trembled for its sake Lies the queen-heart in sovereign overthrow.