Dante Gabriel Rossetti (Данте Габриэль Россетти)

The House of Life. Sonnet 95. The Vase of Life

Around the vase of Life at your slow pace
He has not crept, but turned it with his hands,
And all its sides already understands.
There, girt, one breathes alert for some great race;
Whose road runs far by sands and fruitful Space;
Who laughs, yet through the jolly throng has pass'd;
Who weeps, nor stays for weeping; who at last,
A youth, stands somewhere crowned, with silent face.

And he has filled this vase with wine for blood,
With blood for tears, with spice for burning vow,
With watered flowers for buried love most fit;
And would have cast it shattered to the flood,
Yet in Fate's name has kept it whole; which now
Stands empty till his ashes fall in it.

1. The House of Life. Sonnet 40. Severed Selves
2. The House of Life. Sonnet 33. Venus Victrix
3. The House of Life. Sonnet 35. The Lamp's Shrine
4. The House of Life. Sonnet 82. Hoarded Joy
5. Words on the Window-Pane

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