Poems (Rossetti, 1901)/The Thread of Life

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THE THREAD OF LIFE.
1.
THE irresponsive silence of the land, The irresponsive sounding of the sea, Speak both one message of one sense to me:—Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so standThou too aloof bound with the flawless band Of inner solitude; we bind not thee; But who from thy self-chain shall set thee free?What heart shall touch thy heart? what hand thy hand?—And I am sometimes proud and sometimes meek, And sometimes I remember days of oldWhen fellowship seemed not so far to seek And all the world and I seemed much less cold, And at the rainbow's foot lay surely gold,And hope felt strong and life itself not weak,
2.
Thus am I mine own prison. Everything Around me free and sunny and at ease: Or if in shadow, in a shade of treesWhich the sun kisses, where the gay birds singAnd where all winds make various murmuring; ​ Where bees are found, with honey for the bees Where sounds are music, and where silencesAre music of an unlike fashioning.Then gaze I at the merrymaking crew, And smile a moment and a moment sighThinking: Why can I not rejoice with you? But soon I put the foolish fancy by:I am not what I have nor what I do; But what I was I am, I am even I.
3.
Therefore myself is that one only thing I hold to use or waste, to keep or give; My sole possession every day I live,And still mine own despite Time's winnowing.Ever mine own, while moons and seasons bring From crudeness ripeness mellow and sanative; Ever mine own, till Death shall ply his sieve;And still mine own, when saints break grave and sing.And this myself as king unto my King I give, to Him Who gave Himself for me;Who gives Himself to me, and bids me sing A sweet new song of His redeemed set free;He bids me sing: O death, where is thy sting? And sing: O grave, where is thy victory?
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