Rossetti Archive Textual Transcription
Document Title: Notebook Page: Ashley A3840
Author: Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Date of Composition: 1871
Type of Manuscript: notebook texts
The full Rossetti Archive record for this transcribed document is available.
![Image of page [1]](http://www.rossettiarchive.org/img/ashley3840b.jpg)
- Even as a child, of sorrow that we give
- The dead, but little in his heart can find,
- Since without need of thought in his clear mind
- Their turn it is to die & his to live:–
- Even so the winged New love smiles to receive
- Along his eddying plumes the whispering dawn's soft auroral ? soft-sorrowing wind,
- Nor forward glorying casts one look behind
- Where night-rack s shroud s the Old Love fugitive.
- So change must be in every hour's recall,
- There is a change with in every hour's recall,
- 10And the last cowslip in the fields we see
- On the same day with the first corn-poppy.
- Alas for hourly change and yet Alas for all
- The loves that from his hand proud Youth lets fall
- Even as the beads of a told rosary!
For
Safe. Turn key once to release handle.
Then turn handle. Then turn key
open.
Then turn handle. Then turn key
open.
To paint Virgin & Child — child climbs
up mother's bosom. Angels behind might
hold branches of the Tree of Life & Tree
of Knowledge. In distance might be seen
Eden & flaming sword.
up mother's bosom. Angels behind might
hold branches of the Tree of Life & Tree
of Knowledge. In distance might be seen
Eden & flaming sword.
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I make this note after a conversation with
a friend who had been reading in the British
Museum, a ridiculous first attempt of mine in verse
called “Sir Hugh the Heron,” which was printed
when I was 14, but written, except the last
page or two, at 12, as my family w d probably
remember. When I was 14, my grandfather
(who amused himself by having a small private
printing-press) offered, I if I would finish it,
to print it. I accordingly added the last
precious touches two years after writing the
rest. I leave this important explanation,
as there is no knowing what fool may someday
foist the absurd trash into print as a
production of mine. It is curious & surprising
to myself, as evincing absolutely no promise
at all,—less than should exist even at 12.
When I wrote it, the only po English poet
I had read was Sir Walter Scott, as is plain
enough in it. D. G. Rossetti.
a friend who had been reading in the British
Museum, a ridiculous first attempt of mine in verse
called “Sir Hugh the Heron,” which was printed
when I was 14, but written, except the last
page or two, at 12, as my family w d probably
remember. When I was 14, my grandfather
(who amused himself by having a small private
printing-press) offered, I if I would finish it,
to print it. I accordingly added the last
precious touches two years after writing the
rest. I leave this important explanation,
as there is no knowing what fool may someday
foist the absurd trash into print as a
production of mine. It is curious & surprising
to myself, as evincing absolutely no promise
at all,—less than should exist even at 12.
When I wrote it, the only po English poet
I had read was Sir Walter Scott, as is plain
enough in it. D. G. Rossetti.
Electronic Archive Edition: 1
Source File:
ashleya3840.rad.xml
Copyright: By permission of the British Library