Rose Mary (corrected holograph fragment, Bancroft Collection) Dante Gabriel Rossetti 1 Digital images courtesy of the Delaware Art Museum, Samuel and Mary R. Bancroft Collection. Rose Mary Dante Gabriel Rossetti 1871; 1879 holograph corrected copy DGR DGR Delaware Art Museum, Bancroft Collection Box 22 Commentary
Introduction

These pages contain three distinct parts of the ballad. The first two pages represent what Paull Baum has described as “several experiments in different meters” with the ballad “Rose Mary” that DGR was beginning to work up in the summer of 1871. They are followed by two pages containing the earliest known text of the poem's opening. These pages are closely related to the fragment of the poem that is housed in the Fitzwilliam Museum's bound volume of Poems and Sonnets manuscripts. The Delaware pages immediately precede the latter in the composition sequence. Finally, the last page here is a fair copy, with some corrections, of the third Beryl Song.

Textual History: Composition

The first two parts of the manuscript were written in 1871; the Beryl Song belongs to 1879.

Textual History: Revision

Production History

Reception History

Iconographic

Printing History

Pictorial

Historical

Literary

Translation

Autobiographical

Bibliographic

Tall Rose Mary was little May— Still & tall from merry & small— When first she read the starry way By the magic crystal's dark soothsay; For the spheres hold in a crystal ball. Her the stars for their seër chose; Pure must be whoever would see; And well I deem that never a rose More pure in Mary's garden blows Than the little maiden Rose Mary. ----------------- Tall Rose Mary, come to my side; (Water-willow & wellaway,) A perilous road your knight must ride; And So read the stars if you'd be a bride, To say which road your knight must ride (With a wind blown night & day.) Daughter, thrice to your mother's call, (The willow's wan & the water white,) Since you were a maiden sweet & small, You'd ve read the stars in the crystal ball, (With a wind blown day & night.) Oft Thrice therein for our own hearts' heed, (The willows wave on the waterway) Your father & I would/have bid/have thou so bade you read: To-day it shall let it be for your love's need. (With a wind blown night & day.) At the upper left of the page the text is written over a pencil sketch of part of a face. (Rose Mary) Pencil notation in another hand along the right margin p 2 Pagination at upper right in another hand DGR has written the numbers 4, 1, 2, 3 beside the first refrain lines in each of the four stanza at the lower half of the page, perhaps as a direction for a repetition pattern should he have kept to this prosodic scheme (which he did not). Twas With cloud above and wave around And fast/deep at the core the globe's heart bound/heart of fire at the center found/The [?] A The WIthcentral fire at the globe's heart bound wound Like the last day prisoned underground Filmed Freaked it was like as the light/thin spring's foam-froth's bubble's ball— Rainbow-hued/veiled with a radiant hued through a [?]/shifting/gleaming/[?] misty pall Like the middle light of the waterfall. ----------------- Tomorrow, child, at break of day, To Holy Cross he fares on his way, Your knight, Sir James of Heron's Hay. Ere yet your wedding-feast befall, For sin that held him erst in thrall He seeks the high confessional. ----------------- The lady lifted upheld the crystal sphere (Lost love-morrow & love-fellow) Round it was as the sun's compeer, Our earth that caps & turns whelms the year (And love's life lying low.) Girt it was with a [?] scriptured rune, (Lost love-labour & lullaby) With shimmering shadow stirred & strewn Like the cloud-nest of the wading moon. (And lowly as let love must lie.) Filmed/[?] Filmed it was as with sprays/oer mists/moon's/the sprays the sprays that furl ( Love low laden Lost love-longing and life sorrow) Centered deep Rainbow-hued with fire & flower of pearl Like the hollow heart middle light of the waterwhirl (And love's life lying low.) Ribbed it was as the sunk caves be; ( Like love longing Love-lorn labour and life laid by.) A thousand years it lay in the sea With a treasure wrecked from Thessaly (And lowly let love lie.) (Rose Mary) Pencil notation in another hand along the right margin <note/> </divheader> <lg n="1" type="quintain"> <l n="1">“Pale Rose Mary, what shall <del>should</del> be done</l> <l n="2">With a rose that Mary weeps upon?”</l> <l n="3">“<del>Why let <del>fall</del> the bloom fall dumb/fall dumb from the tree/Why let fall the rose from the tree</del> </l> <addspan> <l n="3.1"> Mother, let it fall from the tree</l> </addspan> <l n="4">And never walk where the strewn <del>spoils</del> <add>leaves</add> be</l> <l n="5">Till winds have passed & the path is free.”</l> </lg> <lg n="2" type="quintain"> <l n="6">“Sad Rose Mary, what shall be done</l> <l n="7">With a face that m<del>ay</del> <add>ust</add> not see the sun?</l> <l n="8">Mother, let it wait for the night,—</l> <l n="9">Be sure its shame shall be out of sight</l> <l n="10">Ere the moon pale or the east grow light.</l> </lg> <lg n="3" type="quintain"> <l n="11">Lost Rose Mary, what shall be done</l> <l n="12">With a heart that is but a broken one?</l> <l n="13">Mother, let it <del>fall/die</del> <add>lie</add> where it must;</l> <l n="14">The <del>drained</del> blood <del>has left but the hollow crust</del> <add>was drained <del>by</del> with the bitter thrust</add>,</l> <l n="15">And dust is all that sinks in the dust</l> </lg> <lg n="4" type="quintain"> <l n="16">Poor Rose Mary, what shall I do,</l> <l n="17">I, your mother, <del>who</del> <add>that</add> lovèd you?</l> <l n="18">O, my mother, & is love gone?</l> <l n="19">Then seek you another love anon:</l> <l n="20">My shame has <del>a mate</del> <add>death</add> to lean upon.</l> </lg> <lg n="5" type="quintain"> <l n="21">Low drooped trembling Rose Mary,</l> <l n="22"> <del>But tall again to her feet rose</del> <add>Then up as though in a dream stood</add> she.</l> <l n="23"> <del>If love be hence & scorn be here/come</del> <add>Come, my heart, it <del>[?]</del>is time to go,</add> </l> <l n="24"> <del>Poor heart, the journey is burdensome</del> <add>This is the hour that was stricken slow</add> </l> <l n="25"> <del>With thy blood's pulse in the night we know/ Yet there's one heart shall yield thee a home</del> When thy pulse <del>throbbed</del> <add>quailed</add> in the nights we know.</l> </lg> <epage/> <page n="[4]" image="a.29-1871.delms4.tif"/> <pageheader> <note/> </pageheader> <msadds type="other"> <trans>(Rose Mary)</trans> <desc>Pencil notation in another hand along the right margin</desc> </msadds> <lg n="6" r="7" type="quintain"> <l n="26" r="31">O my shame, it is <del>known, known, known</del> <add>shown, shown, shown</add>!</l> <l n="27" r="32">Come back, dear love, or I die alone!</l> <l n="28" r="33">O Lord God, one are we, and thine!</l> <l n="29" r="34">As for one soul, be it his and mine,</l> <l n="30" r="35">The shrift he bears from the holy shrine!</l> </lg> <lg n="7" r="8" type="quintain"> <l n="31" r="36">Ah me! as yet but a day apart!—</l> <l n="32" r="37">Three days more!—she said to her heart.</l> <l n="33" r="38">Yet God be thanked that I still could see!</l> <l n="34" r="39">His death by heaven's help shall not be;</l> <l n="35" r="40"> <del>Nor your scorn, mother, <del>yield</del> bring death to me</del> <add>But shall I live till he come to me?</add> </l> </lg> <lg n="8" r="9" type="quintain"> <l n="36" r="41"> <del>Tell me, mother</del> <add>O my heart, &</add> where shall I hide</l> <l n="37" r="42">The bridegroom's <del>choice/mate</del> <add>choice</add> till she be a bride?</l> <l n="38" r="43">Through what thorn-brake, in what dusky gloam,</l> <l n="39" r="44">To what wind's wail shall my footsteps roam,</l> <l n="40" r="45">Till my wedding-music fetch me home?</l> </lg> <lg n="9" r="10" type="quintain"> <l n="41" r="46"> <del>Lost perchance but not sad & pale</del> <add>Tall she stood, with a flame in her eye</add> </l> <l n="42" r="47"> <del>She stood a minute & did not quail</del> <add>And a cheek to burn her heart-strings by.</add> </l> <l n="43" r="48">'Twas the lightning-flash o'er sky & plain</l> <l n="44" r="49">Ere labouring thunders heave the chain</l> <l n="45" r="50">From the floodgates of the drowning rain.</l> </lg> <lg n="10" r="11" type="quintain"> <l n="46" r="51">The lady watched her, pallid & <del>still</del> <add>chill</add>,</l> <l n="47" r="52">As a hurt thing that she yet must kill;</l> <l n="48" r="53">Then rose the tears <del>that she might</del> <add>which no will not stem;</add> </l> <l n="49" r="54">The mother clung to the daughter's hem</l> <l n="50" r="55">And all the stormtide burst on them.</l> </lg> <lg n="11" r="12" type="quintain"> <l n="51" r="56">Heart to heart & face against face</l> <l n="52" r="57">They shook therelocked in a lone embrace</l> <l n="53" r="58">As the sky's moon & the water's moon</l> <l n="54" r="59">Neath cloud & wave to the wind's one tune</l> <l n="55" r="60">Shake in wild hours <del>while</del> <add>of</add> the night's <del>at</del> <add>mid-</add>noon.</l> </lg> </div0> <epage/> <page n="[5]" image="a.29-1871.delms5.tif"/> <pageheader> <note/> </pageheader> <msadds type="other"> <trans>x 2 lines</trans> <desc>Pencil notation next to lines 20-21, which are here transcribed as a single line.</desc> </msadds> <div0 anchor="0.3" type="song" n="3" title="Beryl-Song. III." workcode="29-1871"> <divheader> <title> <hi rend="u">Beryl-Song</hi>. We, cast forth from the Beryl, Gyre-circling spirits of fire, Whose pangs begin With God's grace to Sin, For whose spent powers the immortal hours [?] are sterile,— Woe! must We behold this mother Find grace in her dead child's face, & doubt of none other But that perfect pardon, alas! hath assured God's her guerdon? Woe! must We behold this daughter, Made clean/free clean from the sorrow of sin/ God's own decree the soil of sin wherewith We had fraught her, Shake off a man's blood like water? Write up her story On the Gate of Heaven's glory, As Whom there We behold her so fair in shining apparel, And beneath us her the ruin Of our own undoing! Alas, the Beryl! We had for a foeman But one weak woman; In one day's strife, We made her to loathe Her all hope fell dead from her life; And yet no iron, Her soul to environ, Could this manslayer, this false soothsayer imperil Lo, where she bows In the Holy House! Who now shall dissever a the/ her soul from her bliss/its joy its joy for ever, While every ditty Of love and plentiful pity Fills the bright White City, And the floor of Heaven to her feet for ever is given? Hark, a voice cries “Flee!” Woe! woe! what shelter have We, Whose pangs begin With God's grace to sin, For whose spent powers the immortal hours are sterile, Gyre-circling spirits of fire, We, cast forth from the Beryl?