Poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

The House of Life. Sonnet 98. He and I

Whence came his feet into my field, and why?
How is it that he sees it all so drear?
How do I see his seeing, and how hear
The name his bitter silence knows it by?
This was the little fold of separate sky
Whose pasturing clouds in the soul's atmosphere
Drew living light from one continual year:
How should he find it lifeless? He, or I?

Lo I this new Self now wanders round my field,
With plaints for every flower, and for each tree
A moan, the sighing wind's auxiliary:
And o'er sweet waters of my life, that yield
Unto his lips no draughts but tears unseal'd,
Even in my place he weeps. Even I, not he.

1. The House of Life. Sonnet 70. The Hill Summit
2. On Certain Elizabethan Revivals
3. At Issue
4. The House of Life. Sonnet 66. The Heart of the Night
5. Penumbra

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