Verses [Thomas James Wise] DGR 1 By permission of the British Library. Verses [Thomas James Wise] Dante Gabriel Rossetti 1887 page proofs assembled into a pamphlet crown octavo British Library, Ashley Collection Ashley 1417 Purchased from Cornish for 3 guineas on November 12, 1894 (Carter and Pollard). Commentary
Introduction

This is T. J. Wise's own copy of the unauthorized pamphlet.

Textual History: Composition

Textual History: Revision

Production History

Reception History

Iconographic

Printing History

Pictorial

Historical

Literary

Translation

Autobiographical

Bibliographic

Lewis, <xref doc="a.z1024.l49.rad" link="dead"> <hi rend="i">Trial Book Fallacy</hi> </xref> , 137-156.

Carter and Pollard, <xref doc="a.z1024.c32.1983.rad" link="dead"> <hi rend="i">Certain Nineteenth Century Pamphlets</hi> </xref> , 218-221.

Barker and Collins, <xref doc="a.z1024.c32.1983.suppl.rad" from="371" link="dead"> <hi rend="i">Sequel to</hi> Certain Nineteenth Century Pamphlets</xref> , 371.

WMR, <xref doc="a." link="dead"> <hi rend="i">Bibliography</hi> </xref> , 17 (item no. 15).

Bookplate of Thomas James Wise blank page blank page <hi rend="center">Verses.</hi> blank page Verses BY DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI. London: Privately Printed: 1881 blank page <hi rend="center">At the Fall of the Leaf.</hi> blank page <hi rend="center">At the Fall of the Leaf.</hi>

I.

Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf How the heart feels a languid grief Laid on it for covering, And how sleep seems a goodly thing In Autumn at the fall of the leaf?

II.

And the swift beat of the brain Falters because it is in vain, In Autumn at the fall of the leaf, Knowest thou not? and how the chief Of joys seems not to suffer pain?

III.

Know'st thou not at the fall of the leaf How the soul feels like a dried sheaf Bound up at the last for harvesting, And how death seems a comely thing In Autumn at the fall of the leaf? <hi rend="center">After the</hi> <lb/> <hi rend="center">French Liberation of Italy.</hi> blank page <hi rend="center">Sonnet.</hi> <lb/> <hi rend="center">After the French Liberation of Italy.</hi> As when the last of the paid joys of love Has come and gone; and with a single kiss At length, and with one laugh of satiate bliss, The wearied man a minute rests above The wearied woman, no more urged to move In those long throes of longing, till they glide, Now lightlier clasped, each to the other's side, In joys past acting, not past dreaming of:— So Europe now beneath this paramour Lies for a little out of use,—full oft Submissive to his lust, a loveless whore, He wakes, she sleeps, the breath falls slow and soft Wait: the bought body holds a birth within, An harlot's child, to scourge her for her sin!

1859.

London: Privately Printed: 1881.

blank page blank page