Up-Hill with Rossetti

Christina Rossetti is one of the first female poets I began to read. For the longest time- even prior to a refined interest in poetry- I’ve known her name (her brother established my favorite period in the history of art, the Pre-Raphaelite period). It wasn't until later in life, however, that I began to read her works. In fact, she’s the very first poet I posted on in my blog. I love her works dearly, deeply, a lot …

I just want to acknowledge and thank her for her works … happy birthday, my Victorian poet-friend

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Here, check out one of her works- a poem about life as a journy up a tough, tough hill ... but with hope at the end ...

Up-Hill

Does the road wind up-hill all the way?
Yes, to the very end.
Will the day’s journey take the whole long day?
From morn to night, my friend.

But is there for the night a resting-place?
A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.
May not the darkness hide it from my face?
You cannot miss that inn.

Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?
Those who have gone before.
Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?
They will not keep you standing at that door.

Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?
Of labor you shall find the sum.
Will there be beds for me and all who seek?
Yea, beds for all who come.