The World by Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)

By day she woos me, soft, exceeding fair:
.     But all night as the moon so changeth she;
.     Loathsome and foul with hideous leprosy
And subtle serpents gliding in her hair.
By day she woos me to the outer air,
.     Ripe fruits, sweet flowers, and full satiety:
.     But thro’ the night, a beast she grins at me,
A very monster void of love and prayer.
By day she stands a lie: by night she stands
.     In all the naked horror of the truth
With pushing horns and clawed and clutching hands.
Is this a friend indeed; that I should sell
.     My soul to her, give her my life and youth,
Till my feet, cloven too, take hold on hell?

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One response

  1. […] take you to four poems, but only three of them are sonnets), or some holy sonnets by John Milton or Christina Rossetti. Also, there’s last week’s post featuring Edward Arlington Robinson. Share […]

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