MEMORY: 2 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI

I have a room whereinto no one enters
Save I myself alone:
There sits a blessed memory on a throne,
There my life centres;

While winter comes and goes -- oh tedious comer! --
And while its nip-wind blows;
While bloom the bloodless lily and warm rose
Of lavish summer.

If any should force entrance he might see there
One buried yet not dead,
Before whose face I no more bow my head
Or bend my knee there;

But often in my worn life's autumn weather
I watch there with clear eyes,
And think how it will be in Paradise
When we're together.

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