Love-Lily (fair copy, Princeton/Troxell collection) Dante Gabriel Rossetti 1 Used with permission of Princeton University. From the Princeton University Library, Department of Rare Books and Special Collections. All rights reserved. Redistribution or republication in any medium requires express written consent from Princeton University Library. Permissions inquiries should be addressed to Associate University Librarian, Rare Books and Special Collections, Princeton University Library. Love-Lily Dante Gabriel Rossetti 1869 fair copy with one small correction DGR DGR Troxell Collection, Princeton U. Library 23278 18 x 11.4cm JA[LLEN & SONS]/EXTRA FINE The leaf is a torn piece from the same notebook that contained <xref doc="a.7-1854.raw">Stratton Water</xref> . Commentary
Introduction

This is an early fair copy of the poem, perhaps the earliest. Like the Fitzwilliam manuscript, this text differs from the first text DGR put into print in the so-called Penkill Proofs (printed in August). WMR's date of 1869 for its composition is probably correct. The text of this MS comes from the same notebook carrying the additions to <xref doc="a.7-1854.raw">“Stratton Water”</xref> .

Textual History: Composition

Textual History: Revision

Production History

Reception History

Iconographic

Printing History

Pictorial

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Literary

Translation

Autobiographical

Bibliographic

Love-Lily. ---- Between the brows, between the lips, Between the hands of Love-Lily, A spirit is born who ever clips My blood with fire & calls to me; Who breathes upon me gazing eyes, Who laughs & murmurs in mine ear, At whose least touch my colour flies, And whom my heart life grows faint to hear. Within the voice, within the heart, Within the soul of Love-Lily, A spirit is born who lifts apart His tremulous wings & looks at me; Who on my mouth his finger lays, And shows, while whispering lutes confer, That Eden of Love's watered ways Whose winds & spirits worship her. Brows, hands, & lips, heart, soul, & voice, Kisses and words of Love-Lily,— Oh! bid me with your joy rejoice Till riotous longing rest in me. Ah! let not hope be still distraught, But find in her its gracious goal, Whose speech Love knows not from her thought Nor God her body from her soul. ----