Dennis Shand (Second Trial Book fragment) Dante Gabriel Rossetti 1 By permission of the British Library Dennis Shand Dante Gabriel Rossetti 1869 This is an early set of proof pages for the Second Trial Book. [1]-4 DGR British Museum Library, Ashley Collection Ashley 1395 18.2 x 12 cm Commentary
Introduction

T. J. Wise bound this booklet for DGR's this copy of the proofs for the ballad. The proofs are identical with those printed in the second trial book. The booklet cover is red levant morrocco bound by Riviere with an embossed or stamped title. Paper is Whatman's hand-made, uncut in the original blue-grey paper boards, backed with white, with white paper back-label.

A note by WMR accompanies the proofs, as well as a copy of two pages (49-50) from Allingham's <hi rend="i">Diary</hi> .

Textual History: Composition

Textual History: Revision

Production History

Reception History

Iconographic

Printing History

Pictorial

Historical

Literary

Translation

Autobiographical

Bibliographic

Hake, Thomas, and Arthur Compton-Rickett, eds., <hi rend="i">The Letters of Algernon Charles Swinburne</hi> 1918

Bookplate with standing female angel blowing trumpet and seated female angel. Between the two figures is a flowing banner on which is inscribed the owner's name. Below the figures and the ower's name is an inscribed poem.

THOMAS JAMES WISE HIS BOOK

BOOKS BRING ME FRIENDS WHERE'ER ON EARTH I BE. SOLACE OF SOLITUDE& BONDS OF SOCIETY! The note is by WMR, who quotes from DGR's letter of 22 November 1860 to William Allingham

To William Allingham he wrote on Nov. 22, 1860, “does Dennis Shand displease you for anything but its impropriety?” p.245

In this bound volume, Wise included pages 39-40 of the Hake/Compton-Rickett edition of Swinburne's letters, which has been omitted in this transcription Ashley 1395 British Museum Library catalog number. <hi rend="c">DENNIS SHAND.</hi> The shadows fall along the wall, It's night at Haye-la-Serre; The maidens weave since day grew eve, The lady's in her chair. O passing slow the long hours go With time to think and sigh, When weary maidens weave beneath A listless lady's eye. It's two days that Earl Simon's gone And it's the second night; At Haye-la-Serre the lady's fair, In June the moon is light. O it's ‘Maids, ye'll wake till I come back,’ And the hound's i' the lady's chair: No shuttles fly, the work stands by, It's play at Haye-la-Serre. The night is worn, the lamp's forlorn, The shadows waste and fail; There's morning air at Haye-la-Serre, The watching maids look pale. O all unmarked the birds at dawn Where drowsy maidens be; But heard too soon the lark's first tune Beneath the trysting-tree. ‘Hold me thy hand, sweet Dennis Shand, Says the Lady Joan de Haye, ‘That thou to-morrow do forget To-day and yesterday. ‘For many a weary month to come My lord keeps house with me, And sighing summer must lie cold In winter's company. ‘And many an hour I'll pass thee by And see thee and be seen; Yet not a glance must tell by chance How sweet these hours have been. ‘We've all to fear; there's Maud the spy, There's Ann whose face I scor'd, There's Blanch tells Huot everything, And Huot loves my lord. ‘But O and it's my Dennis'll know, When my eyes look weary dim, Who finds the gold for his girdle-fee And who keeps love for him.’ The morrow's come and the morrow-night, It's feast at Haye-la-Serre, And Dennis Shand the cup must hand Beside Earl Simon's chair. And still when the high pouring's done And cup and flagon clink, Till his lady's lips have touched the brim Earl Simon will not drink. ‘But it's, ‘Joan my wife,’ Earl Simon says, ‘Your maids are white and wan.’ And it's, ‘O,’ she says, ‘they've watched the night With Maud's sick sister Ann.’ But it's, ‘Lady Joan and Joan my bird, Yourself look white and wan.’ And it's, ‘O, I've walked the night myself To pull the herbs for Ann: ‘And some of your knaves were at the hutch And some in the cellarage, But the only one that watched with us Was Dennis Shand your page. ‘Look on the boy, sweet honey lord, And mark his drooping e'e: The rosy colour's not yet back That paled in serving me.’ O it's, ‘Wife, your maids are foolish jades, And you're a silly chuck, And the lazy knaves shall get their staves About their ears for luck: ‘But Dennis Shand may take the cup And pour the wine to his hand; Wife, thou shalt touch it with thy lips, And drink thou, Dennis Shand!’