A farewell poem
My friend in real space as well as blogdom, and fellow poetry appreciator, Soph, is leaving Sydney to go to work for Cross Cultures in Melbourne, a branch of the Australian Fellowship of Evangelical Students. Yesterday she had a farewell partay, blending nicely with an Australia Day BBQ. So, I thought it only fitting to send her off with a poem, and that being one of my favourites by my favourite Christina Rossetti. So here are a few segments from Monna Innominata, a beautiful poem written by Christina after she ended a marriage engagement over spiritual differences (from what I can ascertain of the story), so there is a romantic context (and also perhaps a finality to the parting that I hope doesn't exist in this case) but also much that speaks magnificently of true friendship and life in this world.
5
... God be with you,
Keep you in strong obedience leal and true
To Him whose noble service setteth free,
Give you all good we see or can foresee,
Make your joys many and your sorrows few,
Bless you in what you bear and what you do,
Yea, perfect you as He would have you be.
So much for you; but what for me, dear friend?
To love you without stint and all I can
Today, tomorrow, world without an end;
To love you much and yet to love you more
As Jordan at his flood sweeps either shore ...
...
10
Time flies, hope flags, life plies a wearied wing;
Death following hard on life gains ground apace;
Faith runs with each and rears an eager face,
Outruns the rest, makes light of everything,
Spurns earth, and still finds breath to pray and sing;
While love ahead of all uplifts his praise,
Still asks for grace and still gives thanks for grace,
Content with all day brings and night will bring.
Life wanes; and when love folds his wings above
Tired hope, and less we feel his conscious pulse,
Let us go fall asleep, dear friend, in peace:
A little while, and age and sorrow cease;
A little while, and life reborn annuls
Loss and decay and death, and all is love.
...
13
If I could trust mine own self with your fate,
Shall I not rather trust it in God's hand?
Without Whose Will one lily doth not stand,
Nor sparrow fall at his appointed date;
Who numbereth the innumerable sand,
Who weighs the wind and water with a weight,
To Whom the world is neither small nor great,
Whose knowledge foreknew every plan we plann'd.
Searching my heart for all that touches you,
I find there only love and love's goodwill
Helpless to help and impotent to do,
Of understanding dull, of sight most dim;
And therefore I commend you back to Him
Whose love your love's capacity can fill.
Christina Rossetti
Picture from here.