Ghent University Faculty of Arts and Philosophy

2006 - 2007

„Women and Flowers‟ in 's Poetry

Dissertation submitted in partial fulfilment of the requirements for the degree of "Licentiaat in de Supervisor: Taal- en Letterkunde: Germaanse Talen" Prof. Dr. Marysa Demoor by Eva Vanhercke

Acknowledgements

First of all, I would like to thank my supervisor, Prof. Dr. Demoor, for her recommendations with regard to secondary literature, her understanding and her helpful advice. Secondly, I would like to express my thanks to Mr and Mrs Nuttin for taking time to read through large parts of my text. I also owe a great debt of gratitude to my parents, who have spared neither trouble nor expense to help me realize this dissertation. Furthermore, their unremitting encouragement has been much appreciated. Finally, I would like to thank my friends who have helped me with their moral support.

2 Contents

Introduction 5

Chapter 1: The Life and Works of Dante Gabriel Rossetti 1.1. Introduction 7 1.2. Chronological overview 7 1.3. Anecdotes 18 1.4. Conclusion 21

Chapter 2: Flowers and their (symbolic) significance throughout history 2.1. Introduction 22 2.2. Overview 22 2.2.1. The early beginnings 22 2.2.2. Greeks and Romans and the increasing importance of flowers 23 2.2.3. The ambivalent attitude towards plant life at the time of early 24 Christianity 2.2.4. The gradual re-appreciation of flowers in the Middle Ages 25 2.2.5. The Renaissance and the return to nature 26 2.2.6. Nineteenth-century flower-mania in the shape of a „language of 27 flowers‟ 2.2.7. The role of flowers in contemporary Western Europe 31 2.3. Conclusion 32

Chapter 3: Women as flowers in the nineteenth century 3.1. Introduction 33 3.2. The close connection between women and nature 33 3.3. Women as flowers in nineteenth-century literature 35 3.4. Women as flowers in nineteenth-century poetry by women 38 3.4.1. Elizabeth Barrett Browning 41 3.4.2. 43 3.4.3. Dora Greenwell 44 3.4.4. Emily Dickinson 46

3 3.5. Conclusion 49

Chapter 4: Women, flowers and Dante Gabriel Rossetti 4.1. Introduction 50 4.2. Rossetti‟s „good ladies‟ 51 4.2.1. The white lily 51 4.2.2. „Mary‟s Girlhood‟ 51 4.2.3. „‟ 53 4.3. Rossetti‟s „bad ladies‟ 57 4.3.1. The rose 57 4.3.2. „Jenny‟ 58 4.3.3. „Rose Mary‟ 65 4.4. „I am the poet of the body, And I am the poet of the soul‟ 73 4.4.1. The rose and the poppy 73 4.4.2. „Body‟s Beauty‟ 74 4.4.3. „Soul‟s Beauty‟ 78 4.4.4. „Body‟s Beauty‟ and „Soul‟s Beauty‟: each other‟s opposites? 80 4.5. Conclusion 82

Conclusion 83

Appendix Poems 84 Paintings 126

Bibliography 130

4

Introduction

The Victorian Dante Gabriel Rossetti was drawn to both poetry and painting and therefore he decided to establish a career in both arts. Today, he is best known for his paintings. His poetry remains somewhat neglected by the general audience. Rossetti himself, however, seems to have attached more importance to his poetic than to his pictorial achievements. As he wrote in a letter to an acquaintance in 1870: „My own belief is that I am a poet (within the limits of my powers) primarily.‟1 In this dissertation, I will devote some attention to Rossetti‟s poetry. My interest for his was awakened when I was taking a course on Victorian Poetry. Out of all the poems we discussed, Rossetti‟s „The Blessed Damozel‟ was my favourite. The majority of critics studied Rossetti‟s poetry with an eye on discovering references to his life in his verses. The aspect of his poetry that I will focus on, however, is the flower imagery. In this way I to offer an alternative approach to his work. Rossetti‟s friend remarked that Gabriel seemed to have decided that the only things worth painting were women and flowers.2 Although Hunt was of course generalizing, it is true that women and flowers play an important part in both Rossetti‟s pictures and his verses. In this dissertation, I will study a few poems in which „women‟ and „flowers‟ occur together. It is my intention to determine what the flower images contribute to the representation of the female figures in these poems. For, in Rossetti‟s work, flowers are not (only) referred to for aesthetic reasons. First and foremost, they function as a symbol. According to Julian Treuherz, an expert in Victorian art, the symbolism Rossetti uses in his paintings is essential to what he wants to express.3 Also Mégroz writes that in Rossetti‟s

1 See The Letters of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, ed. Oswald Doughty and John Robert Wahl. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1965-1967), 4 vols. (indicated by number, not page), 992, quoted in Jan Marsh, ed., Collected Writings of Dante Gabriel Rossetti. (Chicago: New Amsterdam Books, 2000), p. xxii. 2 See Dante Gabriel Rossetti. His Family-Letters with a Memoir, ed. . (London: Ellis, 1895), vol. 1, p. 202, quoted in Virginia M. Allen, “„One Strangling Golden Hair‟: Dante Gabriel Rossetti‟s Lady .” Art Bulletin 66:2 (1984), p. 288. 3 See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti. (Zwolle: Waanders Uitgevers; Amsterdam: Van Gogh Museum; Liverpool: The Walker, 2003), p. 22.

5 poetry, natural imagery is an important element and is always to be interpreted symbolically.4 Therefore, through close reading, I will try to find out which symbolic meaning Rossetti attaches to which type of flower and what exactly the function of these flower images is in the context of the selected poems. I have divided my thesis into four chapters. The first chapter is an introductory chapter on Rossetti‟s life and work. In the second chapter, I will try to give a brief overview of how flowers acquired symbolic meanings throughout the ages. I will devote particular attention to the significance of flowers in the nineteenth century. The third chapter will deal with the Victorian tradition of associating women with flowers, and with how this convention expression in nineteenth-century literature. I will also look into the way a few of Rossetti‟s contemporary women poets challenged this tradition. Finally, in the last chapter I will explore Rossetti‟s use of flower imagery in a number of poems in which the focus is on a female character. I have included the texts of the poems in an appendix. The edition of Rossetti‟s work that I will be using is the one by Jan Marsh.5 This collection proved useful because it contains all of Rossetti‟s literary works (prose as well as poetry) and because of the notes accompanying each one of his works.

4 See R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti: Painter Poet of Heaven in Earth. (Michigan: Scholarly Press, Inc., 1972), p. 206. 5 See Jan Marsh, ed., Collected Writings of Dante Gabriel Rossetti. (Chicago: New Amsterdam Books, 2000). All quotations from Dante Gabriel Rossetti‟s poems are taken from this edition.

6

Chapter 1: The Life and Works of Dante Gabriel Rossetti

1.1. Introduction

This chapter on Rossetti‟s fascinating life consists of two parts. I will first give a short overview of important dates, events and people in the painter-poet‟s life. In the second part of the chapter, I will select a few anecdotes about Rossetti to add to the factual information.

1.2. Chronological overview

The painter-poet Gabriel Charles Dante Rossetti‟s roots are to be found in Italy. His ancestors‟ surname had been Della Guardia for ages, until their nickname Rossetti - given to them because of their red hair - replaced their official surname round about the eighteenth century. Gabriel‟s grandparents were simple working people living in Naples. , Gabriel‟s father, was born as the third son of this couple in 1783. The boy started to write and draw early on in life. Later on, the man became an important poet, who wrote mainly on political subjects. In his thirties, he became a member of a group supporting the revolution against the absolutist king of Naples, Ferdinand II. In 1821, after composing incentive „odes to liberty‟,6 he was expelled from Italy. He travelled with the English fleet to Malta, where he would stay for about four years, after which he eventually got settled in London in 1825. He was not the only Italian there. There was a community of immigrated Italians like himself in the city. He became a teacher of Italian to make a (modest) living. One of the notable members in the Italian circle was . It was his daughter Frances Mary Lavinia that Gabriele Rossetti married in 1826. The Rossettis had four children. Gabriel Charles Dante was born on 12th May 1828 as the first son and the second child of the family.7 His sister Maria Francesca was born a year

6 See Jan Marsh, ed., Collected Writings of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. xii. 7 Gabriel Charles Dante Rossetti was his given name. He was named after Charles Lyell, a friend of the family, and after the Italian thirteenth- and fourteenth-century writer Dante Alighieri, who was one of the family‟s

7 before him. His brother William Michael was born a year after Gabriel. His sister Christina Georgina was the youngest child as she was born in 1830.

The atmosphere of the Rossetti household has most probably had some influence on the way the children later on developed their talents and personalities. The family of six would in the Victorian era have been seen as belonging to the lower middle classes, even after Gabriele became Professor of Italian Literature at King‟s College School in 1831, but the Rossetti parents gave the intellectual preference over the material. The children‟s mother is said to have been an intelligent, educated and religious woman. The father of the family was very much interested in politics (the Rossetti home was visited by a lot of political refugees), but another of his great passions became the study of Dante Alighieri‟s writings. The Rossetti children must have been familiar with the whole idea of writing, since their father published some writings of his own. In Gabriel however, his parents saw a painter, although next to drawing, the young boy also composed stories of his own. The Slave, which he conceived at the age of five, is considered to be an early sign of the talent he would later develop. It was inspired by Shakespeare and Dante. In those early days, Gabriel already had a personality that one could not describe as average. His brother‟s Some Reminiscences (1906), however, seems to suggest that Gabriel must have been a difficult child. William Michael considered him to be dominant and passionate, and claims that Gabriel was like that until the end of his days.8

Mrs. Rossetti valued the intellectual a lot and she insisted on educating her children, the girls as well as the boys, herself when they were little. Thanks to their mother, the Rossetti children were able to read and write from a young age. Also, they learned two languages, since Frances used to talk to the children in English and Gabriele used to address them in Italian. According to Sharp, however, Rossetti thought of himself as being English: „He seemed always to me an unmistakable Englishman, yet the Italian element was frequently recognisable; as far as his own opinion is concerned, he was wholly English.‟9 Moreover, in a letter to his father a few years later, Gabriel himself acknowledges that he is not as proficient

favourite authors. In 1849, Gabriel changed the order of his names into Dante Gabriel Rossetti. In this way he expressed more clearly the importance of Dante‟s writings in his life. 8 See Some Reminiscences, ed. William Michael Rossetti. (London: Brown & Longham, 1906), vol. i, section ii, quoted in R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 32. 9 See William Sharp, Dante Gabriel Rossetti: A Record and a Study. (New York: AMS Press, 1970), p. 37.

8 in Italian as he is in English: „[…] still the labour of composing in a language in which I am so imperfect is an agony that I would willingly avoid.‟10

The family income was not at all abundant, but it was enough to allow the boys to get schooling at a local school first, from the age of eight, and then at King‟s College School. Half-way through 1842, Gabriel left King‟s College after five years of studying there. By then, he had acquired knowledge of French, Latin and German romantic literature. He had read poets such as Shelley, Keats, Scott, Browning and Byron. He mastered the Italian language enough to read Italian texts, but it was not until he was sixteen that he began to read Dante‟s Vita Nuova (1292) and Divina Commedia (circa 1320), with which his father was so enchanted. The works were to become an important factor in Gabriel‟s career as a poet and a painter.

Gabriel‟s parents encouraged their eldest son to develop his talents as an artist and showed a preference for painting over writing poetry, because one could easier make a living by painting than by writing verse at that time. He was allowed to get art training, first at Cary‟s Art Academy Antique School, commonly known as Sass‟s Academy, in 1842, and in 1845 in the Antique School of the Royal Academy.

Gabriel was enthusiastic about neither of those institutions. His brother noted that at one time, Gabriel confided him the following: „As soon as a thing is imposed on me as an obligation, my aptitude for doing it is gone; what I ought to do is what I can’t do‟.11 In this light, it becomes clearer to us why Gabriel tended more towards writing in those years than to actually committing himself to what he was supposed to do. It was during his days at the Academy that he threw himself onto producing translations of Italian literary works, which were published later on as Early Italian Poets (1861), and onto writing verses of his own. Also three of his friends - Holman Hunt, Stephens and Madox Brown - have observed that the young Rossetti lacked the artistic discipline required to make the best out of a work of

10 Quoted in R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 42. 11 See Dante Gabriel Rossetti. His Family-Letters with a Memoir, ed. William Michael Rossetti, ix, quoted in R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 44.

9 art. However, they also noted that when he was really enthusiastic about a concept, he would work on it for days and days, ignoring the times when it was appropriate to eat and sleep.12

As the young Rossetti was disappointed with the training at both of the schools, he looked for an alternative himself. In 1848, he wrote a letter to , a young painter who was not yet established but who had had his education on the continent and who already had experience on the technical level. Brown accepted Gabriel as his pupil. At about the same time, Rossetti sent some poems to Leigh Hunt asking him for his opinion.13 Hunt advised him to set his mind onto a career in painting rather than in writing poetry, because even though he liked Rossetti‟s verse, he believed it would be easier for the young man to earn a living as a painter.

Because of the advice of his parents as well as that of Leigh Hunt, Gabriel eventually chose painting as a profession. This did not mean, however, that he gave up writing verse. The interest in both arts was clear in the works Rossetti produced. Sometimes, there was not a clear distinction to be made between pictures and verses. He often made pieces of art that consisted of both paintings and poems. Lines of poetry occurred on the frames of paintings and there were several instances in which a poem and a painting belonged together as two expressions of the same idea. The poem and the painting, then, reinforced and influenced each other. Since Rossetti had left the Academy School early, he had difficulties with technique and to improve this, Brown made him paint still-life compositions. This frustrated Rossetti quite a bit, since he was eager to make compositions of his own. At the age of twenty, he met William Holman Hunt, who was only twenty-one himself at that time. As a result, Rossetti soon after shared Hunt‟s studio with him. There, Rossetti would for the first time concentrate on painting. He harvested a lot of admiration with the themes he portrayed in his paintings, but perspective remained a weakness of his.

Another very important event in 1848 was the founding of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood.

12 See R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 102. 13 Leigh Hunt was an English essayist, critic, journalist and poet. See Michael Alexander, A History of English Literature. (Hampshire and New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2000), p. 232, 237.

10 At the Royal Academy, students were supposed to create paintings similar to those of the eighteenth-century painter Sir Joshua Reynolds. Rossetti and his friends, however, believed that this artist paid too little attention to nature and that he made too much use of dark colours. The young men preferred the approach of the artists preceding the sixteenth- century Italian painter Raphael. Their common aim was to be, „to paint what they [saw] in nature, without reference to conventional or established rules. It was the “archaic honesty” of the painters who had preceded Raphael, not their archaic style, that [they] found appealing.‟14

The seven members of the Brotherhood were the painters Dante Gabriel Rossetti, William Holman Hunt, , , Frederick George Stephens, the sculptor and Gabriel‟s brother William Michael Rossetti, a critic in art and literature. Gabriel‟s friend and mentor Ford Madox Brown, although never a member of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, was considered to be an unofficial „Pre-Raphaelite‟. According to Mégroz, „[t]he wonder is not that the Brotherhood which they formed dissolved so soon, but that it endured for three or four years‟,15 since all men were different from each other except in their idealism when it came to art. Indeed, in practice, the painters were not so much alike in the choice of themes or in trying to paint true to nature, as they were in the application of colours. Nevertheless their ideas exposed common features, as they went back to the same source. The first exhibition of their assembled works in 1849 did not receive that much attention. In 1850, however, the young artists were heavily criticized. Alexander Munro, a friend of Gabriel Rossetti, had told about the Brotherhood to a certain Angus Reach. Reach wrote pieces of gossip for the Illustrated London News. On the occasion of the second Pre- Raphaelite exhibition in 1850, the young artists had to cope with a lot of bad reviews by the art critics. wrote letters in defence of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood in 1851 and he in his turn severely criticized the traditional views on art in Britain at that time. By 1850, the Brotherhood had also set up a magazine that they called . It included contributions by Gabriel Rossetti and his sister Christina and some articles on the aims of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, which unfortunately were somewhat incoherent. After two numbers, the title The Germ was replaced by Art and Poetry but after two more numbers, the magazine disappeared. The Brotherhood itself slowly dissolved.

14 See Thomas L. Jeffers, “Tennyson‟s Lady of Shalott and Pre-Raphaelite renderings: Statement and Counter- Statement.” Religion and the Arts 6:3 (2002), p. 231. 15 See R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 144.

11

Next to being an important phase in the careers of the young artists, the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood became the basis of an important network for establishing social contacts. Rossetti‟s circle of friends grew wider as he met other artists at assemblies organised by the Pre-Raphaelite group. He also often befriended painters or poets whom he admired and whom he sent letters to in order to express his esteem of them, such as W.B. Scott and Robert Browning. His circle of friends also expanded as old friends introduced him to new people.

In 1850, Gabriel Rossetti met . Elizabeth Eleanor Siddal16 was the daughter of a working class family. Her father was a cutler and she herself was working as an assistant in a milliner‟s shop in London. , a painter and friend of the members of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, met her in 1850 in that very shop. He is said to have been overwhelmed by her beauty and he convinced her to model for his paintings. He assured his friends that although she had a modest background, she behaved like a real lady and he invited them to come over and have a look for themselves. The seventeen-year-old girl soon modelled for a lot of other members of the Brotherhood, including Rossetti and Hunt. Rossetti confided to his friend Ford Madox Brown that he felt that his destiny was defined when he first saw Elizabeth.17 For him, she represented the same thing as Beatrice did to Dante Alighieri, namely a real woman who personified all beauty and goodness and the ideal love.18 Siddal must have been as much interested in Gabriel as he was in her: after a short while, she left the milliner‟s shop to be Rossetti‟s full-time model. Moreover, she herself took on the practice of painting under Rossetti directions, not without any success. This might be seen as the beginning of the difficult relation between Gabriel Rossetti and Lizzie Siddal. It would take him ten more years to actually marry her and there would be many ups and downs in their relationship. Rossetti‟s friends were quite fond of Elizabeth and her work. People had several pet- names for her, including „the Sid‟, „Guggum‟, and „Liz‟. Rossetti‟s friend Ruskin in particular is said to have been most probably in love with her. Mégroz believes this was one of the reasons why Ruskin offered the couple financial help for several years.19

16 Officially, her name was spelt with double „l‟ and her family continued to write it like that, but Rossetti left out one „l‟ when writing her surname and others soon did the same. See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 140. 17 See Ruskin, Rossetti, Preraphaelitism. Papers 1854 to 1862, ed. William Michael Rossetti. (London: George Allen, 1899), 10th March 1855, quoted in R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 51. 18 See Jan Marsh, ed., Collected Writings of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. xv. 19 See R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 118.

12 During the 1850s, Lizzie was very often ill and her poor health was to be an issue for the rest of her days. Once in a while, she went abroad hoping that she would get better.

In 1856, Rossetti met Edward Burne-Jones and and he encouraged them to start an artistic career. Rossetti himself had a talent for valuing the work of young artists who had not yet been noticed. His own influence and opinion boosted the careers of these artists, as did the influence of the people who were his friends. In 1857, the three men and some other artist friends, such as Swinburne, Munro, and Woodward, proposed to decorate the blank spaces on the walls between the windows of the Debating Hall of the Oxford Union Society. They were allowed to execute the project and they did so with a lot of enthusiasm. They were called the Oxford Group and this group can be seen as a second sort of brotherhood of which Rossetti was the key figure. Eventually, because the artists did not know how to prepare the walls for painting, the decorations scaled off in no time.

After they had been engaged for almost ten years, Rossetti and Siddal got married on 23rd May 1860. Mégroz states that this was not at all a fortunate development in their relationship.20 According to him, the marriage did not do either of them any good and he even claims that it might have been better for both of them if they had never married. One reason he mentions to support this idea is that life was anything but restful for Elizabeth. The married life of Rossetti and his wife was quite a chaotic one. Lizzie left their home a lot, looking for places where her health would improve, while Rossetti was busy working, neglecting regular hours for eating and sleeping. Her state of mind in those days is reflected in her art.21 Her poetry and painting bare traces of rather morbid thoughts. A lot of pain is evoked by the poems. Siddal‟s poems most often circle around the theme of betrayal in love. A lot of people have felt her poems to emanate bitterness and anxiety. The inclination of some would be to ascribe Lizzie‟s sadness to Rossetti‟s unfaithfulness but one should not overlook Lizzie‟s innate tendency towards gloominess. She is said to have been difficult to live with herself.

Rossetti‟s financial situation was changeable during his whole life, to say the least. He had a considerably large income from the 1860s onwards because of his painting. However, he often had to borrow money from friends and relatives, because he gave large sums of money to acquaintances who were having financial problems. Whenever he borrowed money, he tried to return his friends the favour by helping them to sell their work. 20 See R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 59. 21 See R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 59.

13 The reason that may account for the fact that Rossetti and Siddal were engaged for a very long time and postponed the actual wedding, is that there were three instabilities in their lives: their financial situation, both of their personalities and their poor physical conditions.22 Moreover, Rossetti may have shown a little too much interest in Jane Burden23, whom he met in the late 1850s. And before her, there had been Fanny Cornforth24, who may have been his mistress for a few years. Apparently, however, Rossetti managed to get his emotional life back on track, he made up his mind and he wedded Siddal in a period in which her health was somewhat better. They left for Paris and went on their honeymoon after that. However, during the honeymoon, Rossetti worried about his unfinished work, about Lizzie‟s deteriorating health, about his own emotions. For about a year after the marriage, Lizzie‟s condition seemed to be improving, but it reached its depth when she gave birth to a stillborn baby-girl in 1861.

On 11th February 1862, a few weeks before the planned move to a new and hygienically better house, Elizabeth Rossetti Siddal died of an overdose of laudanum, which she used to ease her physical pains. Whether she accidentally or deliberately took too large an amount of the drug is still rather unclear.25 At the burial, Rossetti, maybe out of grief, maybe out of guilt, put a manuscript containing poems of his in the coffin in her long red hair. Mégroz sees this gesture as a childlike way of making up for the moments Rossetti might have let his wife down.26 The feeling of loss he experienced, was one of the causes of his renewed interest in spiritualism. He held sessions in which he tried to get into contact with his dead wife‟s spirit.

22 See R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 67-68. 23 Rossetti met Jane Burden in 1857 in Oxford. She was one of the daughters of a tradesman living in Oxford. Jane impressed Rossetti with her exotic beauty and he persuaded her to be one of his models. William Morris, who was a bachelor at that time, was pushed by his friends to marry Jane Burden and she agreed to get engaged to be married. After her marriage, she was privately educated. Rossetti and started an affair in the early 1870s. See R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 114; Elizabeth Prettejohn, Rossetti and his Circle. (Millbank, London: Tate Gallery Publishing, 1997), p. 9. 24 was one of Rossetti‟s regular models. Some critics believe that she was a prostitute before Rossetti met her. After Lizzie died, Cornforth became Gabriel‟s housekeeper and companion. See Jerome McGann, “Jenny”. The Complete Writings and Pictures of Dante Gabriel Rossetti: A Hypermedia Research Archive. Ed. Jerome McGann. (Charlottesville: Institute for Advanced Technology in the Humanities, 2000-2007). 11 Nov. 2006. (http://www.rossettiarchive.org/docs/3-1848.raw.html); Elizabeth Prettejohn, Rossetti and his Circle, p. 10. 25 See William E. Fredeman, ed., The Correspondence of Dante Gabriel Rossetti. The Chelsea Years, 1863- 1872. Vol. V. (Cambridge: D.S. Brewer, 2005), p. 407. 26 See R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 76.

14 Before Elizabeth Siddal‟s death, Rossetti‟s physical condition had been excellent although he had been working hard and living his life in an irregular way. However, after the death of his wife, he began to suffer from more and more infirmities.27 After 1868 he began to experience problems with sleeping. An American friend advised him to seek relief for his insomnia in the use of chloral. The drug was new in those days and people wrongly believed it produced no side effects. To soften the aftertaste of the chloral, Rossetti is said to have taken to drinking whisky.

In 1869, Gabriel wanted to recover the poems he had once slipped into the coffin in which his wife was buried, and he was permitted to have the coffin exhumed. Several opinions have been formulated on the matter, both understanding and condemning ones. Mégroz writes that he believes that Rossetti himself had mixed feelings about the exhumation. According to Mégroz, the poet-painter „felt guilty for the reversal of his former sacrifice.‟28 He adds that:

[t]he emotional complexity in Rossetti cannot be dismissed as mere weakness. It is a part of the greatness of his genius, and sprang from emotional causes too deep to be controlled by him. The recovery of the poems was also connected with the most passionate love affair of Rossetti‟s life, if his poetry, which is always extremely personal, is to be taken as an indication. […] Rossetti certainly benefited spiritually by that decisive act, and entered upon a new period of creative expression.29

In connection with this emotional complexity in Gabriel Rossetti, Mégroz refers to Gabriel‟s youngest sister Christina. In his opinion, we can acquire a better understanding of Gabriel‟s state of mind by scrutinizing that of Christina, which was apparently very much like that of her brother: „The important fact in a study of Rossetti is that his sister‟s art shows quite as clearly as his the vicissitudes of the spirit, the stress of a powerful emotional conflict never properly resolved.‟30

Between 1869 and 1871, Rossetti started to work on poetry again. Among others, The House of Life sonnet sequence was accomplished.

27 See William E. Fredeman, ed., The Correspondence of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 411. 28 See R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 131. 29 See R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 131. 30 See R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 95.

15 Nowadays, The House of Life volume is considered to be Rossetti‟s greatest literary achievement. It revolves around such themes as love, death, life and hope. In a posthumously published note by Rossetti, one reads: „To the Reader of The House of Life. The “life” involved is neither my life nor your life, but life representative, tripled with love and death.‟ 31 The series of sonnets was written in three periods. Between 1850 and 1854, a few sonnets had been written that would later be included in the volume of The House of Life. The majority of poems was produced between 1868 and 1872. Seventeen more sonnets that would complete the collection of 101 were written between 1873 and 1882.32

In 1870, a volume called Poems was published. It included old and new work and part of the sonnets written for The House of Life. They were placed under the heading „Towards a work to be called “The House of Life”‟. Before he published the poems, he asked some friends to review them, and generally they were well received. After publication, the sales were good and Rossetti‟s reputation as a poet was established.33 However, other critics were less positive. The biggest attack on Poems came in the form of an article in the Contemporary Review, written by rival author Robert Buchanan, who was only identified later on since he had signed the piece with the pseudonym Thomas Maitland. The title of the article was „The Fleshly School of Poetry‟ and it mocked the sensuality of the poems of The House of Life volume. Dante Gabriel Rossetti‟s reaction „The Stealthy School of Criticism‟ of December 1871 only made things worse. Buchanan published his own article as a pamphlet in 1872. At that time Rossetti was extremely vulnerable, because of his frail emotional state and because of the influence of chloral and alcohol. He became unsure about his artistic ability, he distrusted people and he stopped writing.34

At this stage, Rossetti started to spend most of his days at the house in Gloucestershire he rented along with William Morris, although he already had a house in . In the

31 See The Works of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, ed. Willliam Michael Rossetti. (London : Ellis, 1911), vol.1, p. 638, quoted in Jan Marsh, ed., Collected Writings of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 493. 32 See Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass: Union and Technique in the Poetry of Dante Gabriel Rossetti (Ohio: Ohio University Press, 1972), pp. 164-168. 33 See Jan Marsh, ed., Collected Writings of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. xxi. 34 According to Mégroz, the Buchanan article was only the last drop that made the cup run over. He claims that Buchanan‟s article was not an isolated instance of antagonism. Several famous men shared Buchanan‟s ideas, including Dickens and the editor of Fraser’s Magazine, Parker. The latter wrote the following: „For myself, […] I am sick of Rossetti and his whole school. I think them essentially unmanly, effeminate, mystical, affected, and obscure.‟ See R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 134.

16 period that Rossetti lived with the Morris family, he grew very close to Jane Morris.35 William Morris did not interfere, feeling that he did not own Jane and that he himself could not really make her happy. In 1875, the Morris, Marshall, Faulkner and Co. decoration firm, of which William Morris was one of the founders and Rossetti a partner, was to be shut down after about fourteen years. The friendship between Morris and Rossetti was to come to an end because of a subsequent quarrel about money. As a result, Rossetti was to leave the home that he had shared with the Morrises from 1872 onwards.

In 1872, Rossetti attempted suicide by taking an overdose of laudanum, the drug that had been fatal to his wife. After that, he started to distrust almost everybody, even his best friends. He, for instance, called off the friendship with Swinburne that had lasted for quite a number of years, because Swinburne had commented on the technical quality of some of Rossetti‟s verses.

Encouraged by the remaining friends, Rossetti would return once more to writing verse. In 1881, a revised edition of Poems was printed. Also a new volume of poetry, entitled Ballads and Sonnets, was published. The Ballads and Sonnets volume included an expanded and somewhat modified version of The House of Life. By the time it appeared, however, Rossetti was in such a bad condition both mentally and physically that he found it hard to be interested in the publication.

Because he was seriously ill by 1882, he was brought to Birchington-on-Sea in the north of Kent. At Easter 1882 Dante Gabriel Rossetti passed away. The last years of his life he had spent in isolation in his house in Cheyne Walk and to the few people who did visit him, he had seemed only the shadow of the man he had been.

In 1882 and 1883, two commemorative exhibitions of Rossetti‟s paintings were organized at the Royal Academy and the Burlington Fine Arts Club. Rossetti had rarely exposed his paintings during his lifetime, and when he did, it was only for a select group of friends. His pictures were little known by the general public. However, the few people that

35 See Jerome McGann, “An Introduction to D.G. Rossetti.” The Complete Writings and Pictures of Dante Gabriel Rossetti: A Hypermedia Research Archive. Ed. Jerome McGann. (Charlottesville: Institute for Advanced Technology in the Humanities, 2000-2007). 19 Dec. 2006. (http://www.rossettiarchive.org/racs/bio- exhibit/index.html); William E. Fredeman, ed., The Correspondence of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 413; Caroline Healey, “Rossetti‟s Real Fair Ladies: Lizzie, Fanny, and Jane.” The Victorian Web. Ed. George P. Landow. 11 Nov. 2006. (http://www.victorianweb.org/painting/dgr/paintings/healey12.html)

17 did see the paintings responded to them with opposed feelings.36 His most renown paintings portray women, and the figures seem at the same time attractive and repulsive. A lot of them did not meet with the Victorian ideal of feminine beauty, as they were somewhat masculine or even androgynous. Rossetti made use of a small group of models, such as Lizzie Siddal, Jane Morris, Fanny Cornforth and , to represent a whole range of different characters, be it historical, literary or mythological. His paintings were not so much an actual accurate representation of the people he used as models: they merely served to convey an abstract idea.37

1.3. Anecdotes

So far, we have been looking at the facts in Rossetti‟s life, the important dates, and his work. In what follows we will have a closer look at Rossetti the man. Maybe this can lead to a more balanced view of him, since, as Colin Cruise states it, „[…] the vision of the artist as a reclusive drug-addict tortured by guilt […] I fear […] has had the greater hold on the public imagination.‟38

Rossetti‟s friends described him in letters, diaries and other writings as a man who was the dominant one whenever there was a social gathering.39 People are said to have been overwhelmed by his charm. His friends not only admired him for his work but were equally attracted to him because of his personality, which seems to have been hypnotic or magnetic. Some described his way of talking as a mixture of joking and contemplation. William Sharp, who was a friend of Rossetti during the last years of the painter-poet‟s life, had the following to say about him:

[…] I know that personally I found him ever affectionately considerate, and generous of heart in a way that few are able to be with men younger than themselves and with no pretensions to equality, and that his friendship as friendship has been to me one of the chief boons of my life. […]

36 See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, pp. 62, 72, 78. 37 See Elizabeth Prettejohn, Rossetti and his Circle, p. 10. 38 See Colin Cruise, “The pre-eminent Pre-Raphaelite: Revisiting Rossetti.” The Art Book 11:4 (2004), p. 4. 39 See R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, pp. 106-107.

18 He offended many by his recklessness, but those who really knew him overlooked these minor 40 inconsistencies and forgave much where they gained much more.

An interesting account of how Gabriel Rossetti came across was given by Sir Johnston Forbes-Robertson in an article in the Times of the year 1928. This man was sixteen when he met Gabriel Rossetti and the occasion was his modelling for a painting of Rossetti in 1870:

Let me try to describe him as I, a boy of 16, remember him at the age of 42. His face was pale, the colour of old ivory as it were, but it glowed under excitement. His forehead was high-domed and broad, the brown eyes deep-sunk, lambent, and sad, with the skin about them of a much darker tone than the rest of the face. His beard was black and slightly forked, and his hair was thick, black, and curly. The lips were rather full and red, seen slightly through his moustache, which was not heavy. The face was very handsome, deeply striking, with its calm nobility and impressiveness - one of those rare faces, in short, that once seen are never forgotten. His voice was rich and deep, soft to ear as velvet to the touch. His frame was robust, thick-set, and muscular. He stood, I should say, a little under 5ft. 10 in., but his whole appearance expressed his powerful personality. […] I sat three times for about an hour and a half, being delightfully entertained all the time by his lively and interesting talk: he treated me as a grown man, which naturally was very flattering.41

In the 1860s, when he was not working on paintings, Rossetti spent his time on some of his other passions. He collected mirrors, china, porcelain, copper, tin, Spanish wardrobes, velvet, carpets, furniture, and jewellery. These items formed a mixture of rubbish and quality.42 He especially enjoyed collecting blue china and old furniture. There is a story about Rossetti and his fondness of china that survived the ages. It was written down by , who assisted Rossetti in his studio. An acquaintance of Rossetti called Howell, who also was a collector of china, had found a unique piece and he invited his friends to come over and have a look at it. Rossetti managed to take the dish with him after the dinner party and planned to throw a dinner party himself, in order to show his friends „his‟ new dish. Howell, however, somehow guessed what Rossetti was up to and when he was at Rossetti‟s

40 See William Sharp, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, pp. 30-31. 41 Quoted in R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, pp. 107-108. 42 See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, pp. 229-230.

19 house a few days later, he replaced the dish with an old piece. At the dinner party the following occurred:

In a few minutes [Rossetti] returned to the dining-room with the package, and began to carefully remove the wrappings. As the dish became uncovered, a curious, puzzled expression came over his face, and when it was entirely exposed to view, he stood still in blank astonishment. […] Everyone rose to look at the dish. A dish it was, certainly, but what a dish! Instead of the beautiful piece of Nankin that was expected, there was only an old Delft thing, cracked, chipped, and discoloured through the numerous bakings it had undergone. The whole party, with the exception of Howell, who looked as grave as a judge, burst into a roar of laughter. Rossetti soon recovered himself and 43 laughed as heartily as any of his guests at Howell‟s ingenious revenge.

Another anecdote about a porcelain dish is the one relating how, at a dinner party, Gabriel Rossetti was so curious about the signs on the bottom of the dish that he turned it around to see them, forgetting that there was food on it and spilling the contents all over the table.44

Next to his collections, there was another, less tangible activity that was a favourite pastime of Rossetti, namely spiritualism. He had been present at séances and talked about the subject to several people and later on he organized sittings at his own home, mostly in order to find a form of contact with his wife‟s spirit.45

Music was not something that could bring pleasure to Gabriel Rossetti. Treffry Dunn reports that during the period he lived in the same house as Rossetti (from 1863 to 1877), he did not once hear music in there, even though Rossetti had assembled a range of special instruments. Rossetti only used those as decorative objects in his pictures. One day, a man who regularly bought some of Rossetti‟s paintings took him to the Royal Opera House to hear and see Beethoven‟s Fidelio performed. Treffry Dunn, the studio assistant, afterwards asked Rossetti to tell him of his impressions. Rossetti answered in a rather amusing way that he had not really appreciated the opera:

43 See Henry Treffry Dunn, Recollections of Dante Gabriel Rossetti and his Circle (Cheyne Walk Life). (London: Elkin Mathews, 1904), quoted in R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, pp. 125-126. 44 See , Reminiscences of my Life. (London: W. Heinemann, 1914), p.76, quoted in Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 234. 45 See R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, pp. 126-127.

20

The only notion he [=Rossetti] had of it was that of a man who was taken out of prison, where he had been for a couple of days without food, and who, when a loaf of bread was given to him, instead of eating it like any starving man would do, burst out into a long solo over it lasting for ten minutes - which he thought was obviously absurd! 46

1.4. Conclusion

The mixture of chronological facts with anecdotes as briefly illustrated above, gives us a more balanced image of what the poet-painter Dante Gabriel Rossetti was like as a son, a brother, a husband, and a friend.

46 See Henry Treffry Dunn, Recollections of Dante Gabriel Rossetti and his Circle, quoted in R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 128.

21

Chapter 2: Flowers and their (symbolic) significance throughout history

2.1. Introduction

This chapter will be dealing with the important place flowers have occupied in European societies across the centuries. I think it is useful to have a general framework in which to fit the Victorian interest in plant life. The enthusiasm for flora in the nineteenth century did not come out of the blue; flowers had already had a magnetic effect on people in the past too. Moreover, Rossetti and his contemporaries were not the first to match flowers with symbolic meanings. Throughout the ages, symbolic value had been attributed to flowers. The material for this short unpretentious overview is for the most part derived from Jack Goody‟s ambitious work The Culture of Flowers.47 The greater part of the overview will, as expected, be dedicated to the meaning of flowers for people who lived during the Victorian era. Next to Goody‟s book, Beverly Seaton‟s The Language of Flowers has been an indispensable source in the attempt to grasp the nineteenth-century attitude toward flowers.48

2.2. Overview

2.2.1. The early beginnings

Goody traces the early beginnings of the later perceptions of flowers all the way back to the period that is now called the Bronze Age (3000 BC and on). One of the changes that marked the beginning of the new age was the domestication of wild plants. Flowers from then on were not only grown for practical uses but also for aesthetic reasons. Flowers began to be

47 See Jack Goody, The Culture of Flowers. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993). 48 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers. A History. (Charlottesville and London: University Press of Virginia, 1995).

22 appreciated as „ends in themselves‟ rather than be considered as „precursors to vegetables and fruit‟.49 In the Mesopotamian and Egyptian empires, flowers were cultivated in gardens, depicted in art and architecture and used in secular and religious contexts. Flowers could for instance decorate houses as well as be offered to the gods. However, groups of people belonging to the ancient Israel were living in both Mesopotamia and Egypt, and had quite different views on the use of flowers. I think it is worth while mentioning this contrasting point of view because it influenced the Jewish, Christian and Muslim religions later on. The people of that Israelite society were opposed to the use of flowers. Their grounds were mainly religious ones. They wanted to set themselves off against their neighbouring groups, who offered flowers to their gods. In ancient Israel, these gods were not accepted and neither was the way of honouring them by offering flowers.

2.2.2. Greeks and Romans and the increasing importance of flowers

However, it was not until the Greeks and somewhat later the Romans entered on the scene that flowers played a substantial part in daily as well as in spiritual life. The Greeks and Romans regularly went to Egypt and in that way came into touch with, among other things, the Egyptian gardens and the lotus and acanthus designs in architecture and art. They adopted the Egyptian tradition of gardening together with their decorative motifs and subsequently, these influences were spread out throughout most of Europe and Asia, because of trade and moving military forces. The input of Greece and Rome to some extent modified what Goody identifies as „the culture of flowers‟. Next to experimenting with the shape of their gardens, they cultivated a wider range of sorts of flowers. By that time, the rose rather than the lotus was pervasive in actual gardens as well as in art and literature. The cultivation of gardens was moreover no longer a prerogative of royals and aristocrats. Because of the growth of wealth as well as technology and the beginning of democracy, gardens in antiquity were part of lots of citizens‟ estates. In both classical Greece and Rome, flowers were used in secular as well as religious contexts. They functioned as decorative elements but were also used to offer to gods. Crowns and garlands of flowers were moreover commonly used at funerals and for honouring people

49 See Jack Goody, The Culture of Flowers, p. 4.

23 that had achieved something remarkable. Hence the traditional image of warriors and bards with a crown on their heads. „In Greek and Roman times‟, as Seaton writes, „plants had many symbolic uses‟.50 According to Seaton, that is reflected in particular metamorphic stories that expressed the meanings attributed to specific flowers. They influenced Western flower symbolism later on. A well known example of such a story is the one about Narcissus, the young man who got fascinated by his own reflection and was changed into a flower. Because of the story, the flower narcissus is still widely linked with egoism.

2.2.3. The ambivalent attitude towards plant life at the time of early Christianity

The fall of the Roman Empire at the end of the fifth century (476 AD) brought with it a decline in the cultivation and use of and the knowledge about plants in the West. Next to political and economic crises (defence against foreign invaders was given priority so that there was no time left to spend on gardening), the emergence of Christianity was a determining factor in this evolution. As was mentioned above, the Christian view on the use of flowers was similar to that of ancient Israel. The Christians were not too fond of what they called „pagan‟ rituals and that included among other things the use of flowers in sacred circumstances. In ancient times, flowers along with, for instance, animals were offered to the gods and the departed; and the Christian Church did not approve of these customs. They were opposed to the idea of offering material goods, because nature was believed to be something inferior to the divine. Breaking loose from ancient rituals was one reason for paying less attention to flowers. Another explanation for minimizing the role of flowers was the condemnation of luxury, since flowers were seen as luxurious items. Even flower motifs were avoided in art, since the representation of God or any part of his creation was disapproved of. Goody summarizes these beliefs as follows: „[…] the medicinal use and passive enjoyment of flowers [was] permissible; what [was] deplored [was] their use in festivals, for domestic pleasure or even for ritual and religion.‟51 It should be noted, however, that not each and every member of the Christian Church was this rigid. A lot of them tolerated the use of flowers in worldly situations like for instance decoration and even in ceremonial contexts such as weddings and funerals. Thus, flowers continued to be used among „ordinary‟ people.

50 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 42. 51 See Jack Goody, The Culture of Flowers, p. 87.

24

2.2.4. The gradual re-appreciation of flowers in the Middle Ages

During medieval times in Europe (from the fifth century to the fifteenth century), flowers, gardens, wreaths and botanical knowledge regained importance, partly under the influence of the Near East, where flower culture had never declined. The Arabs brought with them that tradition when they reached Southern Europe and occupied Spain from the eighth to the fifteenth century. Again, also the Christian Church had a part in the revival of flower culture. Possibly as a way of making a compromise with popular culture,52 the use of flowers as decorations and as garlands to celebrate certain religion-related occasions (such as marriages and funerals) was allowed. The symbolism often connected with flowers was Christianised. Red roses for instance, rather than being linked with earthly love, were then related to the blood of Christ. There was also a rich flower symbolism revolving around the figure of the Virgin Mary, but this cult was not without internal inconsistencies, as Goody explains:

In the art and literature of medieval Europe the Virgin Mary was sometimes visualised as the enclosed garden, sometimes as a rose in that garden; she was a rose (often white) without thorns. The rose […] was transformed into a symbol of complex, indeed contradictory, character. In secular contexts, the red rose was the sign of spring, of love, but it also represented the blood of the divine victim or martyr, and because of its thorns, death itself. […] The floral imagery was overlapping rather than exclusive, for the Virgin was also seen as a lily and a violet, while, as we have seen, Christ too was represented by a red rose […].53

What was also Christianised were the names given to flowers. The marigold for instance owes its name to Mary. From then on, it was believed to be suitable to picture the Garden of Eden with flowers in it. Because of such adjustments on the part of the Church and the recovered interest for flowers of popular culture, by the twelfth century, they could be found in western European gardens, in literature and in architecture once more.

52 The attitude toward flowers in popular culture was still being influenced by the model that the remaining Roman architectural and literary works provided the people with. 53 See Jack Goody, The Culture of Flowers, pp. 155-156.

25

2.2.5. The Renaissance and the return to nature

The time of the Renaissance (from the fourteenth to the sixteenth century) involved a gradual cautious step away from the doctrines of the church and a revaluing of secular life, or at least a gradual separation of both spheres. Nature became an important aspect of life again, after it had been looked down on in previous centuries. As a result of the combination of a return to nature and a re-appreciation of luxury and Roman models, flowers started to occupy a more prominent place in the arts and in daily life. In Renaissance Europe, flowers were even displayed inside the house and used at secular celebrations. Artists tried to integrate secular elements in religiously inspired works. The genre of still life painting became a well-liked one and it included the painting of flowers. It flourished especially in Flanders and the Netherlands around the seventeenth century. The research in the field of botanical knowledge expanded starting from the sixteenth century. Texts on the subject were published and they also contributed to the increasing presence of plants in the landscape as well as in the arts. Flowers were no longer grown exclusively in royal courts and monasteries; gardening was increasingly within reach of the bourgeoisie too. Especially in England during the Tudor period54 the popularity of growing flowers increased. Flowers were much wanted for their aesthetic qualities and for their fragrance. This demand brought with it a whole new line of business throughout Europe, with professional gardeners, flower shops, books on the subject of flowers and the import and export of varieties of plants. By the time of the Enlightenment in the eighteenth century, it seemed as if nature and flowers along would disappear into the background in favour of the focus on humanism. However, even then, flowers were still used in literature. In texts on social issues for instance, flowers were used to express human characteristics.55

54 The Tudor period is the denomination for those years in which members of the Tudor dynasty ruled in England, namely from 1485 to 1603. See Michael Alexander, A History of English Literature, p. 75. 55 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 60.

26

2.2.6. Nineteenth-century flower-mania in the shape of a ‘language of flowers’

In a discussion of the nineteenth century in particular, one can not get away from the role of flowers in the then society, as Goody claims. When picturing the nineteenth-century world, people often seem to associate it with the so called „language of flowers‟ books. Indeed, as Goody writes, flowers seem to have been omnipresent in nineteenth-century Western Europe, and he adds weight to this impression by mentioning examples in the following excerpt:

In art there was the middle-class lady with her easel, the classical subjects of Alma-Tadema, the medieval romances of the Pre-Raphaelites, the perfection of late Victorian English water colourists and above all the vigorous sensations of the Impressionists. This was the era of horticultural societies, the flower shows and competitive displays, of the universal gardener and of the literary garden into which Tennyson invited Maude. So much took place with flowers and gardens that for Baudelaire flowers became evil symbols of the world he had rejected.56

It is in the context of this increased enthusiasm for flowers that one has to fit the development of a new type of book that dealt with the symbolism surrounding flowers. In the areas of religion, literature and painting, and in daily life, flowers had already been endowed with particular symbolic meanings. In the nineteenth century, this was taken one step further. Several books were published which were intended to introduce people in the so called „language of flowers‟. The authors presented the readers with „a set of highly formalised lists of meanings together with a whole semiotic analysis of the „language‟‟.57 Seaton writes that it was „a popular, commercially successful development of the period‟s feelings about flowers.‟58 Goody uses the word „language‟ between quotation marks in this context because the „language of flowers‟ is very much constructed. The alphabetical lists in books on this topic

56 See Jack Goody, The Culture of Flowers, p. 232. Alma-Tadema was a nineteenth-century Dutch-British painter fascinated with antiquity. Alfred Tennyson is considered to have been the leading poet of the Victorian age. His poem Maud (Goody mistakenly writes the name as „Maude‟) appeared in 1855. Charles Baudelaire was a nineteenth-century French poet. In 1857, his collection of poems entitled Les fleurs du mal (The flowers of evil) was published. See Matthew, H.C.G. and Brain Harrison, eds., Oxford Dictionary of National Biography. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007). 24 June 2007. (http://www.oxforddnb.com); Michael Alexander, A History of English Literature, pp.262-265. 57 See Jack Goody, The Culture of Flowers, p. 232. 58 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 162.

27 are an attempt to order common usage, and while such formalisation can help to clarify, in the case of the „language of flowers‟, it rather complicated the whole thing. The reasons according to Goody are „[the disregard of] contextual usage and [the choice of] one symbolic equivalence‟ as well as „[the construction of] significances for flowers that had none before […] to fill empty boxes‟.59 Consequently, despite the success of the genre, it was not able to become the standard way of dealing with flowers. Seaton writes that in her research, she has found „almost no evidence that people actually used these symbolic lists to communicate […]‟.60 In everyday life, literature and painting, preference was given to a more practical symbolism of flowers that depended on contextual aspects. In Goody‟s words:

[…] the books refer to a single aspect of flower behaviour and the actual symbolism of flower use is much more fragmentary, localised and complex.61

The origins of the belief that there was such a thing as an actual „language of flowers‟ have to be traced back to Lady Mary Wortley Montagu, who visited Turkey near the beginning of the eighteenth century. In the letters she wrote in that period, she mentions how in the East, people corresponded by means of exchanging objects, among which were flowers, when they wanted to pass on confidential messages to each other. About a century later, an Austrian expert of the Orient by the name of Hammer, indicated that this way of communication was only practised by women living a secluded life in harems and mainly as a pastime. At the time, Lady Montagu‟s reports nonetheless instigated the conviction of some people in the West that they had „discovered‟ a way of expressing a wide range of meanings by means of flowers and soon after books on the topic were printed. One of the earliest versions of this genre is generally presumed to be the one written by Charlotte de Latour, which was distributed in Paris in 1819. Charlotte de Latour was a pseudonym for Louise Cortambert and her work, entitled Langage des fleurs, started off the whole tradition. Basically, the larger part of the book consists of a list of meanings and the flowers, needed to communicate them, and vice versa: a list of flowers and their accompanying meanings. In this way, the book takes the form of a sort of dictionary. A set of guidelines for modifying the meanings was also included. If a particular flower meant one thing, one could convey the opposite meaning by holding the

59 See Jack Goody, The Culture of Flowers, p. 253. 60 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 2. 61 See Jack Goody, The Culture of Flowers, p. 253.

28 flower upside down or by removing the leaves. Colour too could „[alter] the basic symbolism of the flower‟.62 In presenting the material in this way, de Latour / Cortambert had in mind a means of communicating in secret between men and women. There was not much similarity left between these associations and their so called Eastern origins.63 Goody calls our attention to the fact that, leaving aside the status of these „formalised attributions of symbolic meaning [to flowers]‟64 for the time being, there is something paradoxical in the way the symbolic meanings in the „language of flowers‟ were conceived by this generation of writers. The meanings were said to be at the same time secret, so they could be used for private messages, and yet universal, and by this claim the authors conveyed the validity of the listing of their meanings. The authors and readers of the books under discussion apparently were not the least bit concerned about this inconsistency, judging by the popularity of the genre among all classes. The de Latour-version was printed time and again, it was translated for an English and German public and it inspired the publication of numerous comparable volumes.65 Some served as instruction manuals, putting more emphasis on the scientific botanical aspects of the subject (the intended audience for language of flower books were mostly women and botany „had been considered to be the most suitable of the sciences for women to study since the late eighteenth century‟66); other volumes were religiously inspired ones and saw the contents of this sort of book as an ideal way of bringing across moral issues within the context of floral symbolism. The latter type of book belongs to the category of the „sentimental flower book‟, according to Seaton:

The sentimental flower book is one that does not treat flowers in botanical (scientific) or horticultural (practical) terms, but rather in terms of sentiment, feeling, and association.67

62 See Claire Powell, The Meaning of Flowers. A Garland of Plant Lore and Symbolism from Popular Custom & Literature. (Boulder, Colorado: Shambhala Publications, Inc., 1979), p. 14. 63 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers. A History, p. 37. Seaton writes that there are important differences between the meanings of flowers in the East and the West. Roughly speaking, the „[sets] of meanings in Western culture‟ revolve around religion and love, while in the East, „meanings concern living a long and prosperous life‟. 64 See Jack Goody, The Culture of Flowers, p. 238. 65 de Latour‟s work and the works inspired by it even reached the United States of America, where they were somewhat adapted to fit into the American scene, although many followers of the genre kept including European plants. For a discussion of flower books in nineteenth-century America, see also Annie Merrill Ingram, “Victorian Flower Power. America‟s floral women in the nineteenth century.” Common-Place. The Interactive Journal of Early American Life, 7:1 (2006). Ed. Edward G. Gray. 01 July 2007. (http://www.common- place.org/vol-07/no-01/ingram) 66 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 21. 67 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 2.

29 Goody writes that traces of the „language of flowers‟ field of study are to be found in other areas of life at the time, although it was not „widely accepted in anything like its entirety‟.68 Many authors and painters, as previously mentioned, attributed particular values to the flowers in their works, but not to the extreme extent of involving them into a whole linguistic system. Goody gives a few examples of French prose and poetry. Honoré de Balzac, the nineteenth-century French fiction writer, for instance, was following the fashion by making the protagonist in his novel Le Lys dans la vallée express his love for his already married beloved by composing bouquets she had to „decode‟. Nineteenth-century French poets, like Victor Hugo and Stéphane Mallarmé, also incorporated a „language of flowers‟ in their verses, although, according to Goody, this may also have been the result of the general interest in Nature in the era of Romanticism. In English poetry too, references to the genre crept into the verses. Powell names some examples in her book The Meaning of Flowers.69 Thomas Hood70 wrote a poem actually entitled „The Language of Flowers‟ in which he stated that „flowers could say what words could not convey.‟71 Leigh Hunt72 too, praised the possibility of conveying love by means of flowers in his poem „Love-Letters Made of Flowers‟. Seaton adds that flowers were also used in English children‟s literature, in the shape of personifications, and interprets this as a proof that using flowers in discussing particular issues was an everyday phenomenon, since „children‟s literature is an area always reserved for the tried and true, the totally acceptable.‟73 Already towards the end of the nineteenth century, the popularity of the „language of flowers‟ genre decreased. A more realistic view on flowers emerged; flowers became appreciated rather more for their aesthetic qualities and consequently „more serious‟74 studies of flowers were published.

68 See Jack Goody, The Culture of Flowers, p. 250. 69 See Claire Powell, The Meaning of Flowers, pp. 16-19. 70 Thomas Hood was a nineteenth-century English poet and journalist. See Matthew, H.C.G. and Brain Harrison, eds., Oxford Dictionary of National Biography. 24 June 2007. (http://www.oxforddnb.com). 71 See Claire Powell, The Meaning of Flowers, p. 17. 72 Leigh Hunt was a nineteenth-century English essayist, critic, journalist and poet. See Chapter 1. 73 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 60. 74 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 30.

30 2.2.7. The role of flowers in contemporary Western Europe

It is quite hard to give any sound overview of how flowers fit into Western European societies nowadays, because their role is so tightly linked to specific contexts. That is why I have chosen to make a selection of what is going on now in the realm of flowers to get some general impression of their current functions. On the state of the nineteenth-century legacy of the language of flowers in our days, Goody has this to say:

Books specifically devoted to the Language of Flowers are still published in England and France, partly as a sort of recherche du temps perdu, as a souvenir of the more leisurely life of the urban bourgeoisie of Victorian and Edwardian England. In France, perhaps in England too, that life exists in books of what we call, following the French, books of etiquette, in books which are known as manuels du savoir-vivre.75

An example of a recently published book in the tradition of the „language of flowers‟ volumes is Manuel du savoir-vivre d’aujourd’hui (1981) by Michèle Curcio. According to Goody it is very much indebted to Charlotte de Latour‟s work.76 Flowers today are part of a consumerist Western culture, mostly as gifts and decorations. The symbolic significance that people tend to attribute to particular flowers depends on regional rather than wide-spread trans-national associations. As an example, Goody mentions the chrysanthemum, which is only in some countries closely linked with death.77 The meanings associated with the rose too, vary as it is used in different contexts. For the most part it is still associated with love, but it can take on other meanings as well. In France for instance, as Goody points out, it became emblematic for socialism in the domain of politics.78 Yet another example of how meanings, matched with flowers, can vary in time and place is the poppy. In twentieth-century Flanders it became a symbol for the dead of the First World War. Thus, present meanings of flowers can be fixed, but then only for a particular region.

75 See Jack Goody, The Culture of Flowers, p. 248. The Edwardian period is the phrase used to denote the first decade of the twentieth century in British history. It derives its name from the then king, Edward VII, the eldest son of Queen Victoria. See Michael Alexander, A History of English Literature, p. 312. 76 See Jack Goody, The Culture of Flowers, p. 249. 77 See Jack Goody, The Culture of Flowers, p. 289. 78 See Jack Goody, The Culture of Flowers, p. 295.

31 2.3. Conclusion

The changes in attitudes toward plant life, as this chapter hopefully made clear, are often brought about by changes in ideas on the level of societies. With regard to the symbolism surrounding flowers, I think the main thing to remember is that in trying to determine the significance of a particular flower or plant, one should take into account the context in which it is used, since variations arise in both time and place depending on when and where flowers are used. This does not have as a result that there are no fixed meanings at all. Some flowers have acquired the same or a similar symbolism throughout Western Europe; the symbols just do not take on the status of a „language‟ or „code‟ that is universally valid. What is universal, in Seaton‟s words, is rather „[…] the love of flowers, the use of them in ceremonies, and the association of them with seasons and rites of passage.‟79

79 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 38.

32 Chapter 3: Women as flowers in the nineteenth century

3.1. Introduction

In the previous chapter, it was demonstrated that immense value was attributed to flowers in nineteenth-century England. The literary scene was one of the domains in which this interest in plant life was expressed. I intend to devote this chapter to a phenomenon that is connected to the afore-mentioned worship of flowers, namely the wide-spread fondness of associating women with flowers and vice versa. I will first provide some theoretical background information as to how this typical association came about and how it found expression in the nineteenth century. In a next subdivision of the chapter, I will try to describe how nineteenth-century female poets dealt with that convention. I selected four women poets and a poem by each of them in order to exemplify the fact that some women tried to challenge the convention of using flower imagery to represent women.

3.2. The close connection between women and nature

Beverly Seaton writes that the „language of flowers‟ books, which, as we have seen in the previous chapter, were all around in the nineteenth-century Western world, were not just a means of entertainment. In a more implicit and subliminal way, their function was to indicate „the gentility of the women of the family‟.80 Seaton believes that attitudes toward persons can be revealed by the presents that are given to them. Therefore, applied to the fact that sentimental flower books were written and bought for women, she feels she can infer the ways in which nineteenth-century societies thought about women. She concludes that in a nineteenth-century perspective, the ideal woman was someone close to nature and someone who spent a lot of time working with flowers in particular. It was exactly on this principle that the authors of flower books relied: Victorian society „believed the floral kingdom to be essentially the domain of Woman.‟81

80 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 19. 81 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 35.

33 Seaton calls the identification of flowers with women „typical‟.82 She writes that, in general, „in modern centuries Western culture has typically identified women with nature‟.83 Women living in the country were consequently assumed to be „good women‟ whereas women inhabiting cities were rather supposed to be „bad women‟. This distinction was part of the overarching opposition between life in the country and life in the city, which was commonly made in those days. Most Victorians disliked city life and the values associated with it, and their aversion to it renewed their appreciation of nature. Houghton expresses this as follows in his The Victorian Frame of Mind:

Whether in fact or in art, the countryside [was] to save the „spiritual‟ values now being destroyed in the unspiritual city. It [was] […] to rescue men from the infection of urban life – its utilitarian aims, its greed, its hard selfishness, its wear and tear on body and soul […].84

Another source for the traditional association of women with nature was the Victorian idea of separate spheres. The public world was the domain of men, whereas the private, domestic world was the domain of women - at least ideally - for in reality the „separation‟ was not so strict.85 So while men, in the usual course of events, were expected to be occupied with cultural matters, women were considered to be largely responsible for the natural elements within the borders of their estates. It is against this background that the preference for and the positive values attached to nature, and women close to nature, should be seen. Flowers in particular, Seaton continues,

[…] were seen as the most suitable aspect of nature to represent women, or to interact with them, reflecting as they do certain stereotypical qualities of the female being: smallness of stature, fragility of mind and body, and impermanence of beauty.86

According to Seaton, it was not only these physical similarities that contributed to the connection of women with flowers. Another motivation might have been the abstract aspects with which flowers are still traditionally associated, namely love and death. In Seaton‟s view,

82 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 17. 83 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 17. 84 See Walter E. Houghton, The Victorian Frame of Mind, 1830-1870. (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1978), p. 80. 85 See Annie Merrill Ingram, “Victorian Flower Power. America‟s floral women in the nineteenth century.” 86 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 17.

34 these were precisely the aspects that were also central in the life of a nineteenth-century woman:

Marriage and children were her typical fate as well as her most cherished goal; marriage should bring love, and, unfortunately, children all too often brought death, either hers, in childbirth, or their own.87

Because of these reasons, „flowers were regarded as a properly edited form of nature for women‟.88

3.3. Women as flowers in nineteenth-century literature

The above-mentioned ideas inevitably found their way to poetry and literature. In poems and novels, women were identified with flowers. In the „language of flowers‟ books, for instance, the established link between women and flowers was expanded. As we have seen in the previous chapter, flowers acquired particular symbolic meanings and among those were the ones referring to personal qualities, such as beauty, charm and pride. They were meant to describe people, with the emphasis on „the typical female rather than the male‟.89 In the preceding chapter, it was already mentioned that in children‟s literature, flowers were presented as if they were people. In children‟s books too, it is exemplified that women were associated with flowers. This is especially clear in the pictures that were included in the books. In most of these images, plants and flowers are shown personified as women.90

In recent Swedish literature classes we have discussed nineteenth-century authors. While reading their books, I paid special attention to possible applications of the above- mentioned view on women. As a matter of fact, I encountered some examples which I considered appropriate for mentioning in this section of the chapter. They illustrate that, as was the case with the enthusiasm for flowers in the nineteenth century as discussed in the previous chapter, the association of women with flowers was quite a wide-spread European

87 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 17. 88 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 17. 89 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 123. 90 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 92.

35 phenomenon.91 The examples also link up nicely with the topic of this part because nineteenth-century Swedish society was quite comparable to the one in England at the same time. The nineteenth century in Sweden is called the Oscarian age. It was named after Kings Oscar I and Oscar II, who subsequently ruled the country in those days. The Oscarian age and the Victorian age are frequently mentioned in the same breath and seen as each other‟s equivalent. I will begin with bringing up a telling excerpt from Pengar (Money), a book written by Victoria Benedictsson and published in 1885. At the beginning of the story, the protagonist, a young girl called Selma, dreams of becoming an artist. She was raised by her aunt and uncle in a way that was somewhat different from the upbringing average girls were given. As a result, people tend to see Selma as a bit of a tomboy. However, at the age of sixteen, she decides to do what was expected of girls like herself in nineteenth-century Sweden and she gets married. In the rest of the story, we can see how Selma has to change her ways in order to live up to the expectations people had with regard to women‟s behaviour. One thing that was expected of women, as was mentioned above, was that they were close to nature and regularly spent time taking care of flowers inside or outside the house. In the following excerpt, we find Selma decorating the table for dinner, as it was fitting for a mistress of the house.

Men nu var allt i ordning, därför sysslade hon med blommorna.

“Astrar, bären stolt er krona! här har mina rosor stått,”

ljöd det för hennes öron som en avlägsen, oartikulerad melodi. […] Astrarna voro vackra i alla fall. Hon ordnade dem så att färgerna passade ihop, och buketten blev riktigt praktfull.92

(Everything was now put in order, and so she occupied herself with the flowers. “Asters, wear your crowns proudly! This is where my roses have stood”. It sounded like

91 As noted in the historical overview of the role of flowers in societies, new insights in botany could bring about a renewed interest in plant life in general. The fact that Linnaeus, an important eighteenth-century innovative botanist, lived in Sweden might be called upon to explain the popularity of flowers among eighteenth- and nineteenth-century Swedish citizens. See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 50. 92 See Victoria Benedictsson, Pengar (1885). Ed. Karin Westman Berg. (Stockholm: Bokförlaget Natur och Kultur, 1997), p. 162.

36 a distant, unarticulated melody in her ears. […] In any case, the asters were beautiful. She ordered them so that the colours matched, and the bouquet became really lovely.)93 The poem „The Ministry of Flowers‟ by the American poet Lydia H. Sigourney connects surprisingly well with this scene of Selma arranging flowers. This poem was published in a volume that consisted entirely of flower poems and that was entitled The Voice of Flowers (1846). The poem underscores again that women and flowers were thought of as inseparable:

The matron fills her chrystal vase With gems that Summer lends, Or groups them round the festal board To greet her welcome friends, Her husband‟s eye is on the skill With which she decks his bower, And dearer is his praise to her Than earth‟s most precious flower.94

The next moment, however, it becomes clear that Selma still has not completely internalized the common female conduct.

Hon skakade på huvudet för att bli den kvitt! Herre Gud, skulle hon nu bli sentimental med! Och hon avskydde poesi. […] Hon drog buketten ur vasen, som om det varit en fiends avhuggna huvud hon hållit tag i, och med sammanbitna tänder öppnade hon fönstret och kastade den söndersmulad och förstörd ut för vinden. Blommor … tillgjordhet… fraser! Bort med det! – kan det vara så svårt att hålla sig nykter?95

(She shook her head to get rid of it [the melody]! Dear God, was she going to become sentimental too, now! And she had a horror of poetry. […] She pulled the bouquet out of the vase, as if she had got hold of the chopped-off head of an enemy and, gritting her teeth, she opened the window and threw it out, crumbled and smashed up. Flowers … artificiality … phrases! Away with them! – can it be so hard to remain realistic?)

93 I attempted to translate this and the next passage myself as well as I could and as true to the original Swedish text as possible. 94 See Lydia H. Sigourney, The Voice of Flowers. (Hartford, CT: Parsons, 1846), quoted in Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 4. 95 See Victoria Benedictsson, Pengar, pp. 162-163.

37 This excerpt is, in my opinion, a nice illustration of what one of the standard tasks of women was considered to be and why Selma in Pengar is seen by her friends, family and acquaintances as anything but typically feminine. By dismissing once more the conventional feminine manners, she acknowledges to herself that she still has trouble with behaving as people think she ought to. Her learned behaviour is not yet, and never will be, natural to her. Next to Victoria Benedictsson, among those we read, I found two more nineteenth- century Swedish authors who made use of flower imagery in describing their female characters. One of them is Victor Rydberg. He wrote Singoalla in 1857 and in this book, he compares the female protagonist, who is named in the title, explicitly to a flower. The male protagonist looks at the gypsy woman and thinks to himself that she looks like „en nyss utvecklad ros, frisk af morgondagg‟.96 (a newly developed rose, fresh because of the morning dew). Here we find a male author making his male protagonist equal a woman with a flower. Women authors, too, however, made use of such comparisons. Fredrika Bremer did it on several occasions in her book Famillen H***, which was first published in 1830. The female speaker brings into play flower images when she is referring to her women acquaintances. The most popular flower seems to be the rose. In the book, we can find such phrases as „hon var […] en ros i sin fulla blomma‟97 (she was a rose in full bloom), „en ung flicka [med] rosenröda kinder‟98 (a young girl with rose red cheeks), „Emilia och Julie rodnade, som Juni- rosor‟99 (Emilia and Julie blushed like June roses) and „han […] svärmade omkring Herminas boning, som bi kring blomma‟100 (he swarmed around Hermina‟s house like a bee around a flower).

3.4. Women as flowers in nineteenth-century poetry by women

The poetesses (as women poets were called in Victorian times101) I will mention below also connected the female figures in some of their verses with particular flowers. However, by employing the typical imagery, and this is maybe a little paradoxical, they searched to question it. They used conventional metaphors and moulded them according to their own

96 See Victor Rydberg, Singoalla (1857). (Stockholm: Albert Bonniers Förlag, 1947), p. 57. 97 See Fredrika Bremer, Famillen H*** (1830). Ed. Åsa Arping. (Stockholm: Svenska Vitterhetssamfundet, 2000), p. 8. 98 See Fredrika Bremer, Famillen H***, p. 25. 99 See Fredrika Bremer, Famillen H***, p. 31 100 See Fredrika Bremer, Famillen H***, p. 122. 101 See Isobel Armstrong, Victorian Poetry. Poetry, poetics and politics. (London and New York: Routledge, 1993), p. 321.

38 perspective. In that way they challenged the system to some extent. Indeed, as Gilbert and Gubar state in their work The Madwoman in the Attic, „[female authors] seem […] to have found it necessary to act out male metaphors in their own texts, as if trying to understand their implications.‟102 They see this as part of a struggle for freedom in both life and literature:

Both in life and in art, we saw, the artists we studied were literally and figuratively confined. Enclosed in the architecture of an overwhelmingly male-dominated society, these literary women were also, inevitably, trapped in the specifically literary constructs of what Gertrude Stein was to call « patriarchal poetry ». For not only did a nineteenth-century woman writer have to inhabit ancestral mansions (or cottages) owned and built by men, she was also constricted and restricted by the Palaces of Art and Houses of Fiction male writers authored. We decided, therefore, that the striking coherence we noticed in literature by women could be explained by a common, female impulse to struggle free from social and literary confinement through strategic redefinitions of self, art, and society.103

The tradition of comparing women with flowers was already berated by Mary Wollstonecraft at the end of the eighteenth century.104 In her A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, first published in 1792, Wollstonecraft argued for female independence on all levels. In her own life, she proved herself to be consistent with the feminist ideas she proclaimed, since she was economically independent and she did not get married at an early age, although that was the most common and safe thing to do in her days. In her groundbreaking work on the role and rights Wollstonecraft had in mind for women in her time, there are a few passages in which she scornfully refers to the tradition of equalling women with flowers. In Wollstonecraft‟s view, such comparisons are „pretty feminine phrases […] men condescendingly use to soften our slavish dependence‟ and she thinks they are partly responsible for the difficulty women have „to obtain a character as a human being‟.105

102 See Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar, The Madwoman in the Attic. The Woman Writer and the nineteenth- century Literary Imagination. (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1979), p. xii. 103 See Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar, The Madwoman in the Attic, pp. xi-xii. 104 Mary Wollstonecraft made a living by writing, translating and reading for a London publisher. She married William Godwin, with whom she had a daughter. The girl was called Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin and later in life, she would become famous herself by writing Frankenstein under the name Mary Shelley (her husband‟s name). For a more elaborate account of Wollstonecraft‟s life, see Miriam Brody‟s „Introduction to the Vindication.‟ Mary Wollstonecraft, A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (1792). Ed. Miriam Brody. (London: Penguin, 1992). 105 See Mary Wollstonecraft, A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, p. 82.

39 Wollstonecraft is especially upset by the fact that even women themselves have adopted the tradition and take it to be normal:

[…] [a] false system of female manners [has] been reared, which robs the whole sex of its dignity, and classes the brown and fair with the smiling flowers that only adorn the land. This has ever been the language of men, and the fear of departing from a supposed sexual character, has made even women of superior sense adopt the same sentiments.106

In a footnote, Wollstonecraft adds to the above assertion an example of a poem written by a woman in which a lady is compared to flowers. The poem starts off like this and then the comparison is expanded:

Flowers to the fair: to you these flowers I bring, And strive to greet you with an earlier spring. Flowers, SWEET, and gay, and DELICATE LIKE YOU; Emblems of innocence, and beauty too.107

Wollstonecraft calls the comparison made by the writer, Mrs Barbauld,108 an „ignoble‟ one.109 It is Wollstonecraft‟s intention, as she writes in a further chapter, „[to] rouse [her] sex from the flowery bed, on which they supinely sleep life away!‟110 In this phrase, Wollstonecraft uses the comparison she dislikes herself for rhetorical purposes. In another fragment, too, she makes use of such a comparison. She compares the fate of a particular woman to the one of „the lily broken down by a plowshare‟.111 Her use of quotation marks in this case indicates that she uses the comparison in an ironical way. I think it should be noted, however, that, strangely enough, Wollstonecraft makes use of the typical comparison herself on one occasion in her Vindication:

The conduct and manners of women, in fact, evidently prove that their minds are not in a healthy state; for, like the flowers which are planted in too rich a soil, strength and usefulness are sacrificed

106 See Mary Wollstonecraft, A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, p. 144. 107 Quoted in Mary Wollstonecraft, A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, p. 144. 108 Anna Laetitia Barbauld was an eighteenth-century British writer, poet and editor. See Matthew, H.C.G. and Brain Harrison, eds., Oxford Dictionary of National Biography. 19 May 2007. (http://www.oxforddnb.com). 109 See Mary Wollstonecraft, A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, p. 144. 110 See Mary Wollstonecraft, A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, p. 231. 111 See Mary Wollstonecraft, A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, p. 267.

40 to beauty; and the flaunting leaves, after having pleased a fastidious eye, fade, disregarded on the 112 stalk, long before the season when they ought to have arrived at maturity. (my italics)

I am not sure if she made this comparison on purpose and thus meant it to be ironic, or if she was unaware of it (she did write the Vindication in a haste in only six weeks‟ time and she assumedly started off with another project almost immediately after having sent off the manuscript to be published113).

The poets I will discuss below, like Mary Wollstonecraft, it would seem, were well aware of the fact that the comparison of women with flowers had become a too traditional one. Unlike Wollstonecraft, however, they did not completely dismiss the tradition on that ground. Instead, in the poems I have selected, they too make use of flowers with reference to the female protagonist. However, each one of the poets manipulated the convention into one that fitted their own ideas of women.

3.4.1. Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Elizabeth Barrett Browning is the author of the sonnet sequence Sonnets from the Portuguese, which was published in the second edition of her volume Poems in 1850.114 She was a highly estimated poet in both nineteenth-century England and the United States of America. In the last poem of the sequence of love sonnets, Barrett Browning uses floral imagery to convey „a rather unconventional message‟.115

Beloved, thou hast brought me many flowers Plucked in the garden, all the summer through, And winter, and it seemed as if they grew In this close room, nor missed the sun and showers. So, in the like name of that love of ours, Take back these thoughts, which here, unfolded, too,

112 See Mary Wollstonecraft, A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, p. 79. 113 See Mary Wollstonecraft, A Vindication of the Rights of Woman, p. 37. 114 See Glenn Everett, “The Life of Elizabeth Barrett Browning.” The Victorian Web. Ed. George P. Landow. 19 May 2007. (http://www.victorianweb.org/authors/ebb/ebbio.html). 115 See Marianne Van Remoortel, “(Re)gendering Petrarch: Elizabeth Barrett Browning‟s Sonnets from the Portuguese.” Tulsa Studies in Women’s Literature 25:2 (2006), p. 262.

41 And which on warm and cold days I withdrew From my heart‟s ground. (Indeed, those beds and bowers Be overgrown with bitter weeds and rue, And wait thy weeding; yet, here‟s eglantine, Here‟s ivy!) – take them, as I used to do Thy flowers, and keep them where they shall not pine. Instruct thine eyes to keep their colours true, And tell their soul, their roots are left in mine.116

Van Remoortel states that with this closing motif:

[…] Barrett Browning encompasses the entire scope of Sonnets from the Portuguese and moves beyond, to add a critical footnote to the precarious position of women writers in Victorian society.117

On an individual level, the flower imagery suggests that, because of love, the „poetic voice‟ of the speaker of the sequence „has gradually [been] nursed […] back to health‟.118 There are still „weeds and rue‟ in her heart that will have to be removed, but there is visible improvement, since there is also eglantine growing there now. The flower, „a Victorian symbol of poetry, […] mark[s] the speaker‟s […] emergence as a poet.‟119 On a more general level, Van Remoortel argues, the flowers and plants can be linked to the status of women poets in the Victorian age. Eglantine, she writes,

[i]n this light […] stands for subjectivity and poetic independence, whereas ivy, with its twining branches, represents the objectifying forces in literature and society that are always ready to strangle the female speaker.120

In this poem, Barrett Browning makes use of conventional floral imagery and attributes it to her female speaker. However, she does not apply the images in a conventional way. She uses them to impart an unconventional idea in an implicit way.

116 Quoted in Marianne Van Remoortel, “(Re)gendering Petrarch: Elizabeth Barrett Browning‟s Sonnets from the Portuguese.”, p. 262. 117 See Marianne Van Remoortel, “(Re)gendering Petrarch: Elizabeth Barrett Browning‟s Sonnets from the Portuguese.”, p. 262. 118 See Marianne Van Remoortel, “(Re)gendering Petrarch: Elizabeth Barrett Browning‟s Sonnets from the Portuguese.”, p. 262. 119 See Marianne Van Remoortel, “(Re)gendering Petrarch: Elizabeth Barrett Browning‟s Sonnets from the Portuguese.”, p. 262. 120 See Marianne Van Remoortel, “(Re)gendering Petrarch: Elizabeth Barrett Browning‟s Sonnets from the Portuguese.”, p. 262.

42

3.4.2. Christina Rossetti

Christina Rossetti, Dante Gabriel‟s youngest sister, was a prolific and important poet herself in nineteenth-century England.121 In her poetry, she did not go along with the conventional association of woman with nature. On the contrary, „there is always a critical distance between nature and the speaker‟ in Rossetti‟s verses, as Helen Groth writes in her essay “Victorian Women Poets and Scientific Narratives”.122 In the poem „By the Sea‟, for instance, rather than identifying herself with the natural elements described in it, Rossetti‟s female speaker looks at them and appreciates them from some distance.

Sheer miracles of loveliness Lie hid in its unlooked-on bed: Anemones, salt, passionless, Blow flower-like; just enough alive To blow and multiply and thrive.123

According to Helen Groth, „this distance is often expressed in Rossetti‟s work in terms of acute alienation‟.124 Groth quotes part of the poem „The Thread of Life‟ to exemplify this statement.

The irresponsive silence of the land, The irresponsive sounding of the sea, Speak one message of one sense to me: - Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so stand…125

121 See Glenn Everett, “The Life of Christina Rossetti.” The Victorian Web. Ed. George P. Landow. 19 May 2007. (http://www.victorianweb.org/authors/crossetti/rossettibio.html). 122 See Isobel Armstrong and Virginia Blain, eds., Women’s Poetry, Late Romantic to Late Victorian. Gender and Genre, 1830-1900. (London and New York: Macmillan Press Ltd and St. Martin‟s Press, Inc., 1999), p. 331. 123 Quoted in Isobel Armstrong and Virginia Blain, eds., Women’s Poetry, Late Romantic to Late Victorian, p. 331. 124 Helen Groth, “Victorian Women Poets and Scientific Narratives”, in Isobel Armstrong and Virginia Blain, eds., Women’s Poetry, Late Romantic to Late Victorian, p. 331. 125 Quoted in Isobel Armstrong and Virginia Blain, eds., Women’s Poetry, Late Romantic to Late Victorian, p. 331.

43 Rossetti‟s speaker voluntarily isolates herself from the natural world that surrounds her. Since this female figure does not interact with her natural environment, and even „defines [her]self against [it]‟126, Christina Rossetti prevented her character from being equalled with nature.

3.4.3. Dora Greenwell

Yet another way in which women poets challenged conventional associations of women with flowers is illustrated by the poetry of nineteenth-century British poet Dora Greenwell. One of her poems is entitled „The Sun-flower‟ and is about a sunflower „[yearning] to be united with the transcendent life-force of the sun, which it mirrors and worships.‟127

I lift my golden orb To his, unsmitten when the roses die, And in my broad and burning disk absorb The splendours of his eye.

His eye is like a clear Keen flame that searches through me; I must stoop Upon my stalk, I cannot reach his sphere; To mine he cannot stoop.128

Helen Groth interprets this poem in a metaphorical way. She explains that „the flower [is] a metaphor for a powerful and desiring feminine subjectivity driven by ambitions that transcend the boundaries of material existence.‟129 In other words, in view of this interpretation, Greenwell follows the convention of equalling women with flowers, but she modifies it by presenting her female figure as a subject (active) rather than an object (passive). Groth even takes this reading a step further and claims the poem can be seen as a political statement when she summarizes her understanding of the poem as follows:

126 See Isobel Armstrong and Virginia Blain, eds., Women’s Poetry, Late Romantic to Late Victorian, p. 332. 127 See Isobel Armstrong and Virginia Blain, eds., Women’s Poetry, Late Romantic to Late Victorian, p. 347. 128 Quoted in Isobel Armstrong and Virginia Blain, eds., Women’s Poetry, Late Romantic to Late Victorian, p. 347. 129 See Helen Groth, “Victorian Women Poets and Scientific Narratives”, in Isobel Armstrong and Virginia Blain, eds., Women’s Poetry, Late Romantic to Late Victorian, p. 347.

44 The conventions of the „language of flowers‟ and botanical observation are thus translated from harmless and decorous cultural practices sanctioned as suitable for women into politically charged statements about women‟s power to control and determine their own lives.130

Isobel Armstrong also quotes a poem by Greenwell in a chapter on how women poets challenged conventional topics in poetry. The poem is called „Qui sait Aimer, sait Mourir‟ and it features the monologues of three personified flowers.

„I burn myself away!‟ So spake the Rose and smiled; „within my cup All day the sunbeams fall in flame, all day They drink my sweetness up!‟

„I sigh my soul away!‟ The Lily said, „all night the moonbeams pale Steal round and round me, whispering in their play An all too tender tale!‟

„I give my soul away!‟ The violet said; „the West wind wanders on, The North wind comes; I know not what they say, And yet my soul is gone!‟131

Traditionally, flowers / women celebrated in poetry, written by men, were hardly ever given speech. Christina Rossetti observed in her preface to her poem „Monna Innominata‟ that women such as Dante‟s Beatrice and Petrarch‟s Laura may have been immortalised through poetry, but that they and other women before them were not able to express themselves.132 The Rose, the Lily and the Violet in this poem, however, are given the possibility of communicating and are thus presented as „agents‟ instead of objects.133 Moreover, as Armstrong writes, the flowers are „explicitly compared to the poet, who like them, breaks the limit of selfhood, burning:‟134 „Oh Poet, burn away thy fervent soul!‟, as Greenwell writes in

130 See Isobel Armstrong and Virginia Blain, eds., Women’s Poetry, Late Romantic to Late Victorian, p. 347. I would like to note that I am of the same mind as Groth as far as the interpretation of the flower / woman as „an ambitious feminine subjectivity‟ is concerned. However, I am not inclined to agree with Groth‟s statement that the poem refers to „women‟s power to control and determine their own lives‟. The flower / woman wants to reach the sun, but it / she cannot do so. 131 Quoted in Isobel Armstrong, Victorian Poetry, p. 353. 132 See Isobel Armstrong, Victorian Poetry, p. 345. 133 See Isobel Armstrong, Victorian Poetry, p. 353. 134 See Isobel Armstrong, Victorian Poetry, p. 353.

45 the last quatrain. By giving the characters in her poem a voice, Greenwell faces up to convention and in that way achieves a poetic voice of her own as well.

3.4.4. Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson was a nineteenth-century American poet. Even though, strictly speaking, she might not be seen as a Victorian poet because the term „Victorian‟ implies being British, I have chosen to include her in this chapter anyway. As a justification for my choice, I would like to refer to Gilbert and Gubar, who noted in their preface to The Madwoman in the Attic that in their studying women‟s poetry, they found „[a] coherence of theme and imagery […] in the works of writers who were often geographically, historically, and psychologically distant from each other.‟135 Moreover, in my opinion, Dickinson‟s use of flower imagery also exemplifies how women poets could modify the women-as-flowers tradition to their own purposes. In addition, there is a link between Dickinson and her Victorian contemporaries in that she was influenced by the poetry of Elizabeth Barrett Browning.136

Before having a closer look at a specific poem including a woman / flower comparison, I think it might be helpful to linger for a moment with the issue of the female figure in Dickinson‟s verses. In many of her poems the character is closely related to Dickinson herself. I think one might say that it is a sort of „fictionalised‟ version of herself. Gilbert and Gubar, in a chapter on Emily Dickinson in their Madwoman in the Attic, make use of the term which critics before them have also used to define Dickinson‟s technique of representing herself in poetry, namely „posing‟.137 They take this posing to have been essential for Dickinson‟s poetic self-assertion, for it was the way in which she „could metamorphose from a real person (to whom aggressive speech is forbidden) into a series of characters or supposed persons (for whom assertive speeches must be supplied)‟.138 This transformation allowed Dickinson „to free herself from social and psychological constraints which might otherwise have stifled or crippled her art.‟139

135 See Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar, The Madwoman in the Attic, p. xi. 136 See William E. Cain, ed., American Literature. Volume I. (New York: Longman, 2004), pp. 1304-1305. 137 See Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar, The Madwoman in the Attic, p. 584. 138 See Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar, The Madwoman in the Attic, p. 584. 139 See Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar, The Madwoman in the Attic, p. 586.

46 Gilbert and Gubar write that, compared to earlier centuries, nineteenth-century female authors increasingly identified themselves with their heroines. They claim that the same is true for Dickinson:

[…] in the work of Emily Dickinson, […] we see the culmination of this process, an almost complete absorption of the characters of the fiction into the persona of their author, so that this writer and her protagonist(s) become for all practical purposes one - one “supposed person” achieving the authority of self-creation by enacting many highly literary selves and lives.‟140

How, then, did Dickinson specifically represent her heroine in her poetry? Gilbert and Gubar call to our attention that many critics have observed that Dickinson, early on, acted out the part of a child and an invisible person. They see these as two of the above-mentioned „supposed persons‟ in Dickinson‟s work. She described her fictionalised self as somebody small, and modest, like a mouse, or a daisy. Dickinson in this way, in Armstrong‟s words, projects herself into roles.141 Armstrong explains why women poets took to such a technique:

[…] by using a mask a woman writer is in control of her objectification and at the same time anticipates the strategy of objectifying women by being beforehand with it and circumventing masculine representations.142

Considering now the relationship between man and woman in Dickinson‟s poetry, at first sight, as Gilbert and Gubar declare, one could see a parallel with Elizabeth Barrett Browning‟s female figure who is subordinate to her husband. However, when looking at the characters in Dickinson‟s work in more detail, they state the relationship to be rather similar to the one between father and daughter or master and slave. Moreover, they find this interpretation more in keeping with Dickinson‟s description of herself as a vulnerable little flower or a child. The attitudes expressed toward the dominant male in Dickinson‟s poems are said to be of two kinds. On the one hand, there is a desire to get away from the dominance; on the other hand, there is the need for approval and love.

140 See Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar, The Madwoman in the Attic, p. 585. 141 See Isobel Armstrong, Victorian Poetry, p. 326. 142 See Isobel Armstrong, Victorian Poetry, p. 326.

47 The poem „The Daisy follows soft the Sun‟ is an illustration of these ambivalent feelings for the mysterious lover. In this poem Dickinson makes her female speaker compare her relationship with her lover to the one between the sun and a flower. Gilbert and Gubar note that:

”Daisy,” significantly, was one of Dickinson‟s own nicknames for herself, and […] she had begun apprehensively to define herself as an ambivalently light-loving/sun-fearing flower.143

The flower needs the sun for energy and because of this dependence takes a submissive position.

The Daisy follows soft the Sun – And when his golden walk is done – Sits shyly at his feet – He – waking – finds the flower there – Wherefore – Marauder – art thou here? Because, Sir, love is sweet!

We are the Flower – Thou the Sun! Forgive us, if as days decline – We nearer steal to Thee! Enamored of the parting West – The peace – the flight – the Amethyst – Night‟s possibility! 144

In this poem, we find an „[elaborate] imagery of male power and female powerlessness.‟145 The last line, however, brings in a twist to the pattern developed in the rest of the poem:

If we pursue all the metaphorical implications of Dickinson‟s feared and adored sun, […] “Night‟s possibility” begins to seem a curiously ambiguous phrase. Since the solar god is withdrawn at night, night‟s possibility, though triumphantly sensual for a human being, can only be abandonment for a flower. At the same time, if night is the interval when the repressive solar [Master] relaxes his constraints, its possibility for a poet may be self-assertion.146

143 See Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar, The Madwoman in the Attic, p. 596. 144 Quoted in Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar, The Madwoman in the Attic, p. 600. 145 See Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar, The Madwoman in the Attic, p. 596. 146 See Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar, The Madwoman in the Attic, p. 601.

48 In view of this, it becomes clear why Gilbert and Gubar declared that Dickinson managed to „[reconcile] those apparent opposites of feminine submission and poetic assertion‟.147 Like the three other poets mentioned above, Dickinson exploited the conventional comparison of women to flowers in order to imply new ideas and to manifest herself both as a woman and a poet.

3.5. Conclusion

I included this chapter in order to demonstrate that Dante Gabriel Rossetti was not the only poet to match female figures to particular flowers in his poems. His style of presenting women like that should be seen in the light of the Victorian context he lived in, because the practice of combining women with flowers was generally accepted in those days. In this chapter I have mentioned a few illustrative excerpts by contemporaries of Rossetti, who also used this conventional association in their writings. By doing so they either confirmed or criticized the traditional Victorian perspective of women and the habitual way of representing women along with it. For, as we have seen in this section, women in the nineteenth century were ideally closely connected to nature in general and to flowers in particular. This general preference for nature had a lot to do with the increasing process of urbanization and the suspicion it gave rise to in the hearts of many people. As urbanization became a fact and as it was gradually appreciated by the end of the nineteenth century, however, the view of women as strongly linked to nature was seriously challenged. The increasing interest in machines was gradually replacing the earlier interest in the natural world.148

As America and England became more and more urbanized in reality, rather than in anticipation, women were no longer associated so much with the country and natural elements. New urban standards of femininity began to develop (for one example, the dedicated shopper). The country woman faded into the cultural background, and with her went the sentimentalization of her environment.149

147 See Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar, The Madwoman in the Attic, p. 587. 148 See Annie Merrill Ingram, “Victorian Flower Power. America‟s floral women in the nineteenth century.” 149 See Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 150.

49 Chapter 4: Women, flowers and Dante Gabriel Rossetti

4.1. Introduction

As mentioned in the previous chapter, in the nineteenth century, women were regularly compared to or associated with particular types of flowers. Dante Gabriel Rossetti made use of this convention too, both in his poetry and his paintings. In this chapter, I will try to determine the significance of Rossetti‟s use of flower images in poems revolving around a female figure. I will try to show that Rossetti, by connecting his female character with a specific flower, tells the reader something about her characteristics. For, as William Sharp writes on Rossetti‟s use of symbolism, many of the poet-painter‟s symbols are made to present the reader / spectator with information about a character‟s nature. Indeed, as he wonders, „[h]ow could an artist better express, say, the personality of a “Persephone”, than by placing in her hand the significant pomegranate?‟150 I intend to examine the use of floral symbolism in relation with the female figure in six of Rossetti‟s poems, namely „Mary‟s Girlhood‟, „The Blessed Damozel‟, „Jenny‟, „Rose Mary‟, „Body‟s Beauty‟ and „Soul‟s Beauty‟. I have chosen these particular poems because I believe that, out of all of Rossetti‟s poems, they illustrate best that the flowers referred to symbolize the central character‟s qualities. Moreover, the poems were written at different stages in Rossetti‟s career, so that they will allow me to detect any possible variations in Rossetti‟s use of flower symbolism in the course of years. Other works by Rossetti, poems as well as paintings, will be included in the critical analysis of the six poems where and whenever I believe them to impart relevant information. This chapter consists of three subdivisions. I have grouped the poems on the basis of the type of flower that is mentioned in them. I will begin each section with a short overview of the symbolic meanings traditionally attached to that specific flower. Then, I will proceed with the exploration of the use of the flower images in Rossetti‟s poems.

150 See William Sharp, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 117.

50 4.2. Rossetti’s ‘good ladies’

4.2.1. The white lily151

The lily appears to have several, often contradictory, symbolic meanings. In the eyes of the Greeks, the Romans and the people in the Eastern societies in ancient times, the lily embodied fertility and life, because of the pistil that functioned as a phallic symbol. The white lily, however, has from time immemorial, because of its colour, been interpreted as a symbol of values such as innocence, purity, chastity, femininity and beauty. This was the reason why, in the early Middle Ages (when the flower was brought to Europe by the Crusaders), a connection was established between the white lily and Mary, the Holy Virgin, by the Roman Catholic Church. The white lily is thus pre-eminently Mary‟s flower, although other holy figures (for instance Saint Clara), also happen to be depicted with a lily as a symbol of their purity. Additionally and perhaps a little contradictorily, because the flower does not live very long, it can also refer to transitoriness and death. This is the reason why the lily can be found on graves, especially those of young women and children, in which case it also serves as a sign of their purity and innocence.

4.2.2. ‘Mary’s Girlhood’

The poem entitled „Mary‟s Girlhood‟ is one of Rossetti‟s earliest poems and it consists of two sonnets.152 Part one of the poem was written in 1848. The second part in 1849. The first sonnet was revised by Rossetti in 1870 before it was re-published in his volume Poems. As the subtitle of the poem, namely „(For a Picture)‟, indicates, it was meant to accompany a painting made by Rossetti in the same year.153 In fact, the poem is to be found on the picture frame of The Girlhood of Mary Virgin.154 The painting portrays four figures. Two women are occupied with embroidering a piece of fabric inside a room. They are being watched by a small angel. Outside there is a man who

151 I rely on: Marcel De Cleene and Marie Claire Lejeune, Compendium van rituele planten in Europa. (Gent: Uitgeverij Stichting Mens en Kultuur, 1999), pp. 1149-1162; Jack Goody, The Culture of Flowers, pp. 156, 186, 284, 418; Claire Powell, The Meaning of Flowers, pp. 90-92; Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 43. 152 See Appendix, p. 84. 153 As a matter of fact, it was Rossetti‟s first painting; in the past he had only made drawings. 154 See Appendix, p. 126. (fig. 1)

51 is gardening. As we can infer from the title, the youngest woman represents the Virgin Mary in her girlhood. For more information on what is portrayed in the painting, we can turn to the poem Rossetti wrote to accompany it. It is as if the poet manifests himself as a guide in a museum, providing us with a detailed explanation while we are observing his work of art. He starts off by pointing out to the reader / observer that it is „blessed Mary, pre-elect / God‟s Virgin‟ (ll. 1-2) who we are watching. He goes on telling us more about the young woman. He says she lived a long time ago in „Nazareth of Galilee‟ (ll. 2-3). We learn that she respected her family,155 that she was simple in mind and very patient (ll. 4-6). Other characteristics Rossetti mentions are that she was faithful, wise and dutiful (ll. 6-8). In short, she was a virtuous young woman. At this point, Rossetti makes a comparison between Mary and „an angel- watered lily, that near God / Grows and is quiet‟ (ll. 9-10). By means of the comparison, Rossetti underscores, in a more poetical way than in the previous lines, that Mary lived an honourable and peaceful life. In the last four lines of the first sonnet, Rossetti refers to what happened to Mary when „the fulness of the time was come‟ (l. 14). In this first sonnet, he only hints at that event and does not elaborate on it. In another painting, however, Rossetti picked up the important event in the story of Mary‟s life, hinted at in this sonnet. was finished in 1850 and the subject of that painting is the angel Gabriel coming to Mary to tell her that she is pregnant and that the child is God‟s son. That this is indeed the event Rossetti is giving a preview to, becomes clear in the very last line of the poem (l. 28), in which he gives some more explanation of what the future will be like for the young Mary. In the second part of the poem, the poet returns to the objects depicted in the painting it describes. This second sonnet opens with the line „these are the symbols‟ (l. 15). Apparently, our „guide‟ now intends to clarify the meaning of the significant items in the painting. The explanation, however, is not very elaborate for each symbol. Elizabeth Prettejohn writes that „the sonnet specifies a one-to-one correspondence between each symbol and its symbolised concept‟156 and that:

155 Rossetti does not mention the two other figures on the painting in the poem. They represent Mary‟s mother and father; Saint Anne and Saint Joachim. See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 146. 156 See Elizabeth Prettejohn, Rossetti and his Circle, p. 12.

52 [w]ith a little knowledge, and a great deal of , the spectator can decode each symbol to 157 gain a wealth of information about the Virgin, her life, education, and virtuous character.

In Dante Gabriel Rossetti, she provides us with the necessary extra information to make the meaning of the depicted objects more understandable.158 Rossetti begins with the red cloth with the triangle on it (ll. 15-18). The triangle is symbolic of the Holy Trinity. One point of it is left out because „Christ is not yet born‟ (l. 18). It is followed by the books, representative of six of the seven virtues. The golden one, as Rossetti tells us, stands for Charity. For the other virtues represented by the books, I turn to Prettejohn. The blue one is for Faith, the green one for Hope, the yellow one for Prudence, the white one for Moderation and the brown one for Strength. Since Christ is not born yet, Righteousness is not included. Finally, the poet guides our perception to the briar and the palm (ll. 23-24), which respectively represent Mary‟s sorrows and joys. The only object of which the symbolic meaning is immediately clear is the flower. In the painting, we can see it as the model for the figure in Mary‟s needlework. In the poem, the Virgin is being compared to it. Rossetti explicitly states that the lily is a symbol of innocence (l. 22). This interpretation of the meaning of the flower is in accordance with the traditional one. The lily is a sign of innocence and, since Mary is compared to it in the first sonnet, her innocent nature is highlighted. In this poem, Rossetti draws on the traditional association between the white lily and Mary. Hence, determining the symbolic meaning Rossetti attaches to the flower in question and the reason why he attributes his female figure with it, is in the case of this poem not a difficulty.

4.2.3. ‘The Blessed Damozel’

The poem „The Blessed Damozel‟159 is the best known of Rossetti‟s works and, like „Mary‟s Girlhood‟, was also written by him at a young age. Scholars usually assume the date of composition of the poem to be 1847-1848.160 It was published for the first time in The

157 See Elizabeth Prettejohn, Rossetti and his Circle, p. 12. 158 See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 147. 159 See Appendix, p. 85. 160 Some uncertainty remains about the date. A copy of the manuscript survived and is dated 1847, but the earliest version appears to have been lost.

53 Germ in 1850.161 Like „Mary‟s Girlhood‟, this poem is matched to a painting. However, this time, Rossetti worked the other way around. The poem came about first in this case. It was not until more than twenty years later, in the late 1870s, that he, at the insistence of friends and patrons,162 completed two similar oil paintings to accompany it.163 The two main characters in the poem are the blessed damozel, who has died and gone to heaven, and her lover, who is left behind mourning for her on earth. On the two paintings based on the poem, these figures are depicted. The paintings faithfully show what is mentioned in the poem. The division within the frame of the paintings suggests the separation between the lovers. However, as Prettejohn observes, the frame, as it were, simultaneously unites them.164 Julian Treuherz mentions that Edgar Allan Poe‟s poem „The Raven‟ was Rossetti‟s inspiration for the subject of lovers being separated by death.165 Rossetti is said to have told his friend in 1881 the following:

I saw that Poe had done the utmost it was possible to do with the grief of the lover on earth, and so I determined to reverse the conditions, and give utterance to the yearning of the loved one in heaven.166

Rossetti‟s poem in turn inspired the French composer Claude Debussy in 1887 to write his piece of music entitled La damoiselle élue.167 Jerome McGann notes moreover that „The Blessed Damozel‟ „later assumed a distinct autobiographical dimension as the figure of the damozel opened itself to parallels with Elizabeth Siddal [=Rossetti‟s wife]‟, who died in 1862.168

The first twelve lines of Rossetti‟s poem (which consists of one hundred and fifty lines in total) are used to describe the damsel‟s outward appearances.

161 The Germ was the magazine run by the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. See Chapter 1. 162 See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 100. 163 See Appendix, p. 127. (fig. 2a & 2b) 164 See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 101. 165 See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 16. Treuherz mentions that Rossetti had shown himself to be an admirer of the American author Poe with his drawing of „The Raven‟ from 1846. Poe‟s poem had been published a year before that. It featured a male speaker mourning over the loss of his beloved Lenore. See William E. Cain, ed., American Literature, pp. 786-792. 166 See Hall Caine, Recollections of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, (Boston: Roberts Brothers, 1883), p. 284, quoted in Jerome McGann, “The Blessed Damozel”. The Complete Writings and Pictures of Dante Gabriel Rossetti: A Hypermedia Research Archive. Ed. Jerome McGann. (Charlottesville: Institute for Advanced Technology in the Humanities, 2000-2007). 11 Nov. 2006. (http://www.rossettiarchive.org/docs/1-1847.s244.raw.html) 167 See Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 114. 168 See Jerome McGann, “The Blessed Damozel”.

54

The blessed Damozel leaned out From the gold bar of Heaven: Her blue grave eyes were deeper much Than a deep water, even. She had three lilies in her hand, And the stars in her hair were seven.

Her robe, ungirt from clasp to hem, No wrought flowers did adorn, But a white rose of Mary's gift On the neck meetly worn; And her hair, lying down her back, Was yellow like ripe corn.

(„The Blessed Damozel‟, ll. 1-12)

Stanzas five to eight form a description of the young woman‟s surroundings. She is now in „God‟s house‟ (l. 25) along with others and the earth is very far beneath her. The damozel has somewhat distanced herself from the others and is absorbed in thought. Throughout a large part of the rest of the poem, and starting from stanza eleven, the woman‟s monologue is rendered. We learn that she is waiting for her lover to come to her. Although to the damsel it seems as if only one day has passed in heaven (l. 13-14), „she is impatient for his arrival.‟169 She expresses the hopes and doubts she has while waiting. She is quite sure that her lover will come (l. 62) because they have both been praying (ll. 63-65). However, there is still some doubt, as is clear from her question what if she should feel afraid (l. 66). Roper Howard notes that it prepares the reader for the damsel‟s tears in the last stanza of the poem.170 The damsel then fantasises about how she and her lover will spend their days when they will be reunited in heaven (ll. 67-90; 97-132). They will bathe, lie in the shadow and with everybody‟s approval, they will happily and peacefully be together. „Yea, verily; when he is come / we will do thus and thus‟, the damsel decides (ll. 133-134). It seems as if the damsel at this point has reassured herself that she will have things the way she wants them, and she smiles (l. 144). „Her hope has overcome her doubt‟, as Roper Howard writes.171 In the very last stanza of the poem, however, the young woman „cast[s] her arms along / The golden barriers, / And

169 See Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass, p. 46. 170 See Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass, p. 46. 171 See Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass, p. 46.

55 [lays] her face between her hands, / And [weeps]‟ (ll. 147-150), proving that her doubts and fears are still there. In Roper Howard‟s words „her hope breaks down and we are left with a picture of her weeping.‟172 The perspective of the young man the damsel is longing for is given in the stanzas that are printed in parentheses.173 In the fourth stanza of the poem, his point of view is rendered for the first time. Whereas to the damsel it seems as if she has been in heaven for no longer than a day, „in terms of earthly time, […] it has been ten years‟174 (l. 19). He imagines he feels her hair on his face, but it turns out to be leaves that are falling. However, it seems as if the male speaker really can see and hear the blessed damsel. The sixteenth and seventeenth stanza of the poem appear to be his reaction to the woman‟s daydreaming. That he answers to what the damsel is saying is clearer in Rossetti‟s 1870 revised version of the poem (published in Poems):

(Alas! We two, we two thou say‟st! Yea, one wast thou with me That once of old. But shall God lift To endless unity The soul whose likeness with thy soul Was but its love for thee?)

(„The Blessed Damozel‟, 1870, ll. 97-102)

The lines in parentheses in the last stanza also indicate that the man can see and hear his lover in heaven: „(I saw her smile)‟ (l. 145) and „(I heard her tears)‟ (l. 150), he says. However, as Roper Howard notes, „[a]cross the vast distance between heaven and earth [the lovers] communicate, but the communication is only partial, for there is no evidence that she also sees and hears him.‟175 This „make[s] the separation even more poignant.‟176

Mindful of the story of the poem, I would now like to turn to the function of the „three lilies in [the damsel‟s] hand‟ (l. 5). The figure of the blessed damsel is presented as someone pious. She believes her wish for her lover to come, will be heard because, as she asks, „have I

172 See Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass, p. 48. 173 Armstrong observes that the use of parentheses underscores the lover‟s separation from the damsel. See Isobel Armstrong, Victorian Poetry, p. 246. See also Tirthankar Bose, “Rossetti‟s The Blessed Damozel.” Explicator 53:3 (1995), p. 151. 174 See Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass, p. 44. 175 See Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass, p. 46. 176 See Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass, p. 46.

56 not prayed in solemn heaven?‟ (l. 63). Her lover describes her as having „[a] wise simple mind‟ (l. 91). The same characteristic was attributed to the Virgin Mary in line five of „Mary‟s Girlhood‟. Another one of her virtues is that she is moderate. The only thing she will ask of „Christ the Lord‟ is for herself and her lover to be at peace, as when they were on earth (ll. 127-132). Her clothing is sober and is only adorned with „a white rose of Mary‟s gift‟ (l. 9). As already mentioned in chapter two, the white rose, next to the lily, is the flower typically associated with Mary. Mary has given the damsel one, so now the latter is linked to the Mary- rose herself. This gives the idea that the young lady‟s character is similar to that of the Virgin. In view of all this, I would draw the conclusion that the image of the three lilies which „[lie] as if asleep / Along her bended arm‟ (ll. 53-54) is used as an additional allusion to the damsel‟s innocent and pure personality.

4.3. Rossetti’s ‘bad ladies’

4.3.1. The rose177

As already hinted at in chapter two, the meanings attached to the rose, too, can vary in time and place. In the Western world, the rose is the flower which is most often used as a symbol. Throughout the ages it has gathered a wide range of symbolic meanings. In antiquity, the flower occupied a special place in mythology. It was dedicated to various gods which were personifications of widely divergent concepts, such as love, war, peace, youth and nature. The Greeks and Romans also used this „queen of flowers‟178 for funerals. In this context the rose was attributed the meaning of rebirth (according to the Greeks, the rose arose from the blood of Adonis) and daybreak. The practice of leaving roses on graves is believed to have been brought to Britain by the Romans. In Wales, roses were put on graves until the nineteenth century. However, roses were not only used at funerals. Marriages too, were seen as occasions for using them. The reason for this is that the rose in addition was associated with happiness. This is now still reflected in such expressions as „his path is strewn with roses‟. Yet another story from Greek mythology is responsible for the concept of taciturnity and secrecy that was also attributed to the rose in ancient times. The

177 I rely on: Marcel De Cleene and Marie Claire Lejeune, Compendium van rituele planten in Europa, pp. 922- 949; Jack Goody, The Culture of Flowers, pp. 56, 67-68, 88-89, 156, 293; Claire Powell, The Meaning of Flowers, pp. 70, 116-120; Beverly Seaton, The Language of Flowers, p. 43. 178 See Marcel De Cleene and Marie Claire Lejeune, Compendium van rituele planten in Europa, p. 924.

57 story is about how Eros gave Harpocrates the very first rose, in order to prevent the latter from spying and eavesdropping on Eros‟ mother, the goddess Aphrodite. This story underlies the use of the expression „sub rosa‟, which is still is used to denote a conversation that is supposed to be private. However, the rose has in most times and places been interpreted as a sign of love and beauty. This was also the case in antiquity. The rose was particularly the attribute of Aphrodite with the Greeks and of Venus with the Romans, equivalent goddesses of love and beauty. An open rose in those days, then, embodied a grown-up woman, while the rosebud was the symbol for a young girl that had not yet attained her full potential in beauty. In Christianity, the rose was at first associated with the pagans but eventually it was used in diverging ceremonies such as births and funerals. During the Middle Ages, the Virgin Mary was often compared to a rose.179 The thorns of the rose were used to represent Adam‟s children, who, unlike Mary, were not born without original sin. The thorns then also signified the result of that sin, namely suffering and sorrow. In a secular context, the rose retained its meaning of love and beauty. The rose (the eglantine) was praised as the most beautiful of all flowers by poets, which in turn gave rise to the association of the rose with poetry. The colour of the rose has always been a feature that could modify its meaning. When the rose was white, for the most part it symbolized innocence and chastity. When it was red, it was rather a symbol of beauty and passion.180

4.3.2. ‘Jenny’

The first version of the poem entitled „Jenny‟ was completed in 1858.181 It was one of the poems which were contained in the manuscript that was put into the coffin of Rossetti‟s wife at her burial in 1862.182 When it was retrieved in 1869, Rossetti revised it with an eye to having it published in Poems in 1870. „Jenny‟ is quite a long poem (388 lines) and it is usually put under the category of the dramatic monologue. In such poems the author makes a character soliloquize. The work of

179 In chapter two, the remark was already made that there was a rich flower symbolism revolving around the figure of the Virgin Mary and that it was not without internal inconsistencies. 180 In a Christian context, however, as already noted in chapter two, the red-coloured rose was associated with the blood of Christ and so became a symbol of martyrdom. This proves again that the symbolism attached to the rose is quite complex and often even contradictory. 181 See Appendix p. 88. 182 See Chapter 1.

58 Rossetti‟s contemporary Robert Browning offers some outstanding examples of this type of poem. He often made use of this sort of poem. His well-known „My Last Duchess‟ (1842), for instance, has as its speaker a Duke who explains how he had his wife killed because he thought she was too friendly with other men. The speakers are often „dissatisfied, possessive or obsessive‟ lovers.183 In Browning‟s „Porphyria‟s Lover‟ (1846), too, a male protagonist is, as it were, talking to the reader and confessing that he strangled his beloved. In „Jenny‟, Rossetti‟s male figure communicates his reveries. We find the man sitting in the room of the woman he has just met and spent the evening with. Jenny appears to be a prostitute184 and the man her customer and she has now fallen asleep on his knees. While he is waiting for her to wake up, he shares some of his thoughts about her with us in a monologue of some length. Rossetti in his article „The Stealthy School of Criticism‟185 defended his choice for the dramatic monologue, or as he calls it, „an inner standing point‟:186

The heart of such a mystery as this [=the theme of prostitution] must be plucked from the very world in which it beats or bleeds; and the beauty and pity, the self-questionings and all- questionings which it brings with it, can come with full force only from the mouth of one alive to its whole appeal, such as the speaker put forward in the poem, - that is, of a young and thoughtful man of the world.187

This poem by Rossetti is one of the few he wrote on a modern-day subject. The theme of the prostitute was a much talked-of topic in those days and it found its way into painting and literature too. Examples are William Holman Hunt‟s painting „‟ (1854), in which he depicts a prostitute and her client, and Augusta Webster‟s poem „A Castaway‟ (1870), in which a prostitute talks about her past and present life. As well as in „Jenny‟, Rossetti ventured upon the subject of prostitution in the painting Found.188 Found is yet another composition Rossetti worked on for years and adjusted several

183 See Michael Alexander, A History of English Literature, pp. 265-266. 184 According to Bryan Rivers, Rossetti‟s contemporary readers would already have inferred this from the title. The name „Jenny‟ (in those days pronounced as „ginny‟) was associated with prostitution for three reasons. Firstly, the word „ginny‟ was a slang term for a tool thieves used to break into houses. A lot of prostitutes lived with thieves or were thieves themselves. Another meaning attached to „ginny‟ also hinted at the theme of prostitution. Rivers notes that prostitutes were known as heavy drinkers of gin. Finally, as Rivers writes, one could interpret „Jenny‟ as the pet form of „Virginia‟, which was a popular pseudonym among French prostitutes (many of whom came to London). See Bryan Rivers, “Rossetti‟s „Jenny‟.” Explicator 63:2 (2005), pp. 82-85. 185 „The Stealthy School of Criticism‟ (1871) was Rossetti‟s reaction to a review written by Robert Buchanan, „The Fleshly School of Poetry‟. See Chapter 1. 186 See Jan Marsh, ed., Collected Writings of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 332. 187 See Dante Gabriel Rossetti, “The Stealthy School of Criticism”, in Jan Marsh, ed., Collected Writings of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 332. 188 See Appendix, p. 128. (fig. 3)

59 times. He conceived the idea in the early 1850s and by the time he died in 1882 the painting was still not completely finished. The painting‟s depicted location is a street in London and it portrays two people. There is a man trying to drag with him a woman who turns herself away from him. As he did for many of his paintings, Rossetti wrote a poem with the same title to accompany Found as late as in 1881.

„There is a budding morrow in midnight:‟ – So sang our Keats, our English nightingale. And here, as lamps across the bridge turn pale In London‟s smokeless resurrection-light, Dark breaks to dawn. But o‟er the deadly blight Of Love deflowered and sorrow of none avail, Which makes this man gasp and this woman quail, Can day from darkness ever again take flight?

Ah! gave not these two hearts their mutual pledge, Under one mantle sheltered „neath the hedge In gloaming courtship? And, O God! to-day He only knows he holds her; - but what part Can life now take? She cries in her locked heart, - „Leave me – I do not know you – go away!‟

(„Found‟, ll. 1-14)

The scene depicted in the painting and described in the poem is one of London at the break of day, where a man and a woman are being confronted. The woman is a prostitute now living in the city. She has been recognized by the man who is her former lover. She has fallen to her knees out of shame and he is trying to hold her.189 However, the woman rejects his help and tells him to leave, as we learn from the last line of the poem. According to Elizabeth Lee:

[t]he question of why she should resist him when his face is so contorted in pity and concern, forces the viewer to look at the drover‟s calf in the background, trapped and struggling within a web of restraints.190

189 See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 165. 190 See Elizabeth Lee, “Fallen Women in Victorian Art”. The Victorian Web. Ed. George P. Landow. 11 Nov. 2006. (http://www.victorianweb.org/gender/fallen.html)

60 Lee sees a parallel between the situation of the calf and that of the „fallen woman‟:

It seems that either the woman is too entangled in her life of sin or else she refuses to be caught in the impositions of married life, represented in the net which holds the calf.191

„At any rate‟, she concludes, „Rossetti [in this work] problematizes the all-too-easy instant condemnation of the fallen woman and her motives‟.192

In „Jenny‟, then, Rossetti deals with the same theme of prostitution in an alternative way. The figure of Jenny is not given a voice and we only get to see her through the eyes of the male speaker of the poem. In the representation of Jenny by the „I‟ of the poem, Rossetti makes use of flower imagery. Both lilies and roses are connected to the figure of Jenny. In the following paragraphs, I will look in more detail at the function the flowers fulfil in the context of this poem. The poem seems to start off cheerfully when the speaker begins with the rhyme and the alliterations „Lazy laughing languid Jenny, / Fond of a kiss and fond of a guinea‟ (ll. 1-2).193 However, these first lines already indicate the way in which the speaker will talk about Jenny and her life throughout most of the rest of the poem. In my opinion, that is in a rather ironic and condescending way, judging from such phrases as „the thoughtless queen / Of kisses‟ (ll. 7-8), „whose person or whose purse may be / The lodestar of your reverie?‟ (ll. 20-21), and „is there hue or shape defin‟d / In Jenny‟s desecrated mind […]?‟ (ll. 163-164). The speaker thinks of Jenny as someone who is not too bright and who is only interested in money. In the last paragraph of the poem he even admits that he „mock[s] [her] to the last‟ (l. 380). We are made to believe that the speaker himself is a person who is completely different to Jenny. He presents himself as an intellectual: „This room of yours, my Jenny, looks / A change from mine so full of books‟ (ll. 22-23). However, in spite of his inclination to look down on Jenny, he uses terms of endearment to address her, such as „sweetheart‟ (l. 35) and „my dear‟ (l. 388). Moreover, some of his remarks suggest that he does seem to pity her, for instance when he imagines those men „Who, having used [her] at [their] will, / [thrust] [her] aside as when I dine / I serve the dishes and the wine‟ (ll. 86-88). The speaker himself treats her somewhat

191 See Elizabeth Lee, “Fallen Women in Victorian Art”. 192 See Elizabeth Lee, “Fallen Women in Victorian Art”. 193 Jan Marsh notes that „Jenny‟ is „a name that used to rhyme more closely with „guinea‟‟. See Jan Marsh, ed., Collected Writings of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 489.

61 differently. At the end of the poem, he does not wake her up, puts some cushions under her head as a surrogate for his knee, which she was resting on, and when leaving the room, he leaves behind some money (ll. 332-338). I think the speaker‟s attitude towards Jenny might therefore probably best be defined by something in between contempt and pity. Roper Howard detects the same „tendencies‟194 in his monologue. However, she seems to read the poem rather as a picture of the change in the man‟s attitude from mockery to sympathy, when she writes that „the speaker, thoughtlessly and casually intending to spend the night with a streetwalker, comes to a new awareness.‟195 She claims that his awareness „includes the complexity of the problem of prostitution without simplification or sentimentality, and without the pretense of having the answer.‟196 Returning, then, to the first paragraph of the poem, the speaker is looking at Jenny while she is resting on his knees. Flower imagery is used for the first time. The conventional image of a woman as a flower is given a turn.197 If the speaker only takes into consideration what Jenny looks like, „fair‟ (l. 7), with „eyes […] as blue skies‟ (l. 10) and „hair […] [as] countless gold‟ (ll. 10-11), he is able to compare her to „a fresh flower‟ (l. 12). In paragraph thirteen and fourteen, too, when he is looking at her, „so young and soft and tired; so fair, / With chin thus nestled in [her] hair, / Mouth quiet, eyelids almost blue / As if some sky of dreams shone through‟ (ll. 173-176), she looks like any other woman. Soon after, however, remembering the life she is living, he changes his mind and calls her a „poor flower‟ (l. 14). He describes her in a metaphorical way as a flower from which the petals have been torn and which soon will have withered completely (ll. 14-15). The speaker feels that there is not much left of the „fresh flower‟ that Jenny must once have been. Her harsh existence has marked her and sooner or later nothing much will be left of her. In paragraph seven, Jenny reminds the speaker of a flower for the second time. He notices her hand, and it is like a lily to him (l. 97). He says that it would have been „more bless‟d / If ne‟er in rings it had been dress‟d / Nor ever by a glove conceal‟d!‟ (ll. 97-99). In the speaker‟s opinion, Jenny would have been happier and more beautiful if only she could have kept her naturalness instead of having to doll herself up. The resemblance of Jenny‟s hand with the lily leads the speaker to the expansion of the flower imagery in the next paragraph. The speaker thinks of the ease of lilies in a garden in spring, which are taken care of and praised by the „husbandman‟ (ll. 107-108). He contrasts

194 See Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass, p. 102. 195 See Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass, p. 101. 196 See Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass, p. 101. 197 See Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass, p. 102.

62 their comfortable situation with another sort of ease, namely that of the flowers in a garden in summer under a „new lord‟ (ll. 104-106). The garden in springtime, then, is a metaphor for Jenny‟s life in the country in a previous stage of her life. The garden in summertime represents Jenny‟s new life as a prostitute, in which she is enjoying the luxury she has obtained.198 In this second garden, however, the lilies are „sickened unto death‟ (l. 110). At the beginning of paragraph nine, the first person narrator of the poem asks Jenny if her lilies are dead (l. 111). Since she is asleep, he does not really expect her to answer the question and so he reacts to it himself. Yes indeed, he replies, her lilies are dead and their „snow-white leaves are spread / Like winter on the garden-bed‟. (ll. 112-113). With the garden in spring with lilies in it equalling Jenny‟s former life, and the garden in summer without lilies equalling her present life, the lilies in this poem can equally be understood as a symbol of innocence and purity.199 Jenny‟s lilies being dead then means that she has lost her innocence. However, although Jenny‟s lilies are gone, the speaker notes that she still „had roses left in May‟ (l. 114). Their leaves are „still red‟ (l. 119) and there are still buds that have yet to be unclosed (l. 117). Roper Howard claims the red roses stand for Jenny‟s beauty,200 and I am inclined to agree with her interpretation. The speaker seems to imply a warning when he says that Jenny has to take care of her roses if she does not want them to die too (l. 116). If she lets them wither, only „the naked stem of thorns‟ will remain (l. 120). Roper Howard thinks the withered roses are a fitting image for Jenny‟s „inevitable, calamitous loss of youth and beauty‟.201 I think in this context it is plausible that the thorns that will remain are, as is traditionally the case, symbolic of the sorrow and sin Jenny will be left behind with. In the following paragraph, the speaker dismisses his metaphors as „mere words‟ (l. 121). He tells himself that people like Jenny do not care about „roses‟ or „lilies‟. He thinks she would probably only worry about bad health and poverty: „Sickness here / Or want alone could waken fear‟ (ll. 122-123). However, the speaker believes that, once in a while, Jenny too thinks about her current life and the one she left behind, „when there may rise unsought / Haply at times a passing thought / Of the old days‟ (ll. 125-127). He imagines that Jenny in those days „would lie in the fields and look / Along the ground through the blown grass‟ (ll. 130-131). At that time, the city with its „broil and bale‟ was „far out of sight‟ (l. 133) and she only knew it from stories (l. 134), whereas now, she knows the city from first-hand experience (l. 135). The opposition between the peaceful countryside and miserable city-life

198 See Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass, p. 105. 199 See Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass, p. 105. 200 See Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass, p. 105. 201 See Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass, p. 105.

63 that is presented here links on to the traditional view of natural and urban surroundings mentioned in chapter three. Women living in the country, as opposed to the ones living in the city, were supposedly more innocent. Since the speaker compares Jenny‟s hands to lilies, perhaps he still sees in her something left of her former innocence. Rossetti through the voice of his male character compares Jenny to a flower one last time in the paragraph beginning with the verses „Like a rose shut in a book / In which pure women may not look‟ (ll. 253-254). In this part the „I‟ of the poem is trying to imagine how other, „pure women‟ (l. 254) see Jenny. In their perspective, as the speaker explains in the first lines, Jenny might be like a rose enclosed in a book which they had better not read because of its dishonourable contents. The „base pages‟ (l. 255) of the book, a metaphor for Jenny‟s life as a prostitute, are crushing the rose she is represented by. The life Jenny is living is damaging the beauty, and perhaps even the joy and the love which the rose can symbolize. The speaker concludes that respectable women should stay away from women like Jenny. Jenny is the rose they cannot touch in the following verses:

And so the life-blood of this rose, Puddled with shameful knowledge, flows Through leaves no chaste hand may unclose:

(„Jenny‟, ll. 264-266)

However, as the speaker tries, maybe other women see in Jenny something left of the beautiful young girl she once was because the rose „still […] keeps such faded show / Of when „twas gathered long ago‟ (ll. 266-267). Maybe the „crushed petal‟s lovely grain, / The sweetness of the sanguine stain‟ (ll. 269-270) can make another woman sympathize with Jenny: „Seen of a woman‟s eyes, [the „grain‟ and the „stain‟] must make / Her pitiful heart, so prone to ache, / Love roses better for its sake‟ (ll. 271-273). At the end of the paragraph, however, he concludes that even women do not pity women in Jenny‟s situation: „Only that this can never be: - / Even so unto her sex is she‟ (ll. 274-275). Women as well as men see Jenny not as a person but as an object or a number:

Yet, Jenny, looking long at you, The woman almost fades from view. A cipher of man's changeless sum Of lust, past, present, and to come,

64 Is left.

(„Jenny‟, ll. 276-280)

In „Jenny‟, the function of the floral imagery seems to be, to underscore the difference between Jenny‟s former life, in which she was a fresh lily, and the one she is living now, by comparing her to a poor rose. Rossetti seems to have attributed conventional meanings to the flowers. However, his use of the flowers is in this poem more elaborate and more sophisticated than in his early poems „Mary‟s Girlhood‟ and „The Blessed Damozel‟.

4.3.3. ‘Rose Mary’

Rossetti composed „Rose Mary‟ in 1871, during the summer he lived with the Morris family.202 The poem was laid aside for some eight years, until it was resumed in 1879 in order to add the interlude passages. The completed poem was published in Rossetti‟s 1881 volume of poems entitled Ballads and Sonnets.203 „Rose Mary‟ is a very long poem; it consists of nearly one thousand lines. This narrative with supernatural elements204 comprises three main parts which are divided by the interludes called „Beryl-songs‟205. I think it is useful to give an outline of what the story is about before looking in more detail at the flower imagery used in this poem.

In the first part of the poem we find Rose Mary‟s mother calling her daughter. She wants the young woman to look into the „Beryl-stone‟, a magic crystal, which has visionary qualities. Rose Mary has done this for her mother before, but this time, she has to look into it for her own sake:

202 See Chapter 1. 203 See Appendix, p. 97. 204 Mégroz notes that the theme of the supernatural in the poem connects with the interest Rossetti developed for spiritualism and „the dark unknown‟ in the 1860s. See R.L. Mégroz, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 265. 205 As Rossetti‟s brother William Michael noted, most readers of the poem thought that the interludes had better not been added: „The “Beryl-songs” are a later addition, say 1879. The general opinion has been that they were better away; I cannot but agree with it, and indeed the author did so eventually. I have heard my brother say that he wrote them to show he was not incapable of the daring rhyming and rhythmical exploits of some other poets. As to this point readers must judge. It is at any rate true that in making the word “Beryl” the pivot of his experiment, a word to which are the fewest possible rhymes, my brother weighed himself heavily.‟ See William Michael Rossetti, ed., The Works of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 660, quoted in Jan Marsh, ed., Collected Writings of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 507.

65 In hours whose need was not your own, While you were a young maid yet ungrown, You've read the stars in the Beryl-stone.

'Daughter, once more I bid you read; But now let it be for your own need:

(„Rose Mary‟, ll. 8-12)

The mother explains why she wants her daughter to have a look into the crystal. We learn that Rose Mary is betrothed to a knight, Sir James of Heronhaye, who will ride out tomorrow to go to confession before the wedding takes place:

[…] to-morrow, at break of day, To Holy Cross he rides on his way, Your knight Sir James of Heronhaye.

'Ere he wed you, […] For a heavy shrift he seeks the shrine.

(„Rose Mary‟, ll. 13-17)

The mother has heard rumours that „On his road […] / An ambush waits to take his life‟ (ll. 21-22). Since „in this glass [=the Beryl-stone] all things are shown‟ (l. 25), she wants Rose Mary to find out where the danger lies. She repeats to Rose Mary that her father brought the crystal from Palestine (l. 55). Because of the Muslim‟s „heathen worship‟ (l. 58), evil spirits occupied it, but the „Blessed Rood‟ (l. 56) chased them away. They will only return „by a Christian‟s sin‟ (l. 60). The mother has prayed all night and „the spell lacks nothing but [Rose Mary‟s] eyes‟ (l. 65). Rose Mary seems to doubt that she will be able to see as in the past: „O mother mine, if I should not see!‟ (l. 67). This is a first indication that she might not be as pure as her mother thinks her to be. Her mother, however, reassures her that she will „see now as heretofore‟ (l. 70). Reluctantly, Rose Mary gives in and look into the crystal. Her mother urges her to tell her what she sees. A description of the scenery Rose Mary catches sight of, is described in the following stanzas. (ll. 86-225). The mother concludes that now „all is learnt that we need to know‟ (l. 230). Rose Mary has seen that there is indeed an ambush waiting for her knight. However, another road, although Rose Mary‟s view of it was somewhat hindered

66 because of a cloud, seemed to be free from any danger, so her mother will urge the knight to take that road:

'Ah! and yet I must leave you, dear, For what you have seen your knight must hear. Within four days, by the help of God He comes back safe to his heart's abode: Be sure he shall shun the valley-road.'

(„Rose Mary‟, ll. 251-255)

All seems to be well at this point. However, the mention of the inscription on the crystal, „‘None sees here but the pure alone’‟ (l. 277), foreshadows the complication that will arise in part two of the poem. The complication is also signalled in the „Beryl-song‟ following the last stanza of part one. In the song, the spirits within the stone like a chorus comment upon the situation. They confirm the suspicion that Rose Mary is no longer the innocent girl her mother takes her for. The spirits are evil ones that could get into the Beryl-stone because of a „Christian‟s sin‟: „For stole not We in / Through a love-linked sin [?]‟ (ll. 308-309). In part two of „Rose Mary‟, we find mother and daughter having a discussion. The mother has by then found out that Rose Mary has sinned by having sexual relations with her lover before their marriage. Rose Mary admits this but defends herself and her lover exclaiming that „thy [=the knight‟s] sin and mine was for love alone‟ (l. 345). She does not yet seem to be aware of the consequences of her past actions. Then she wonders how her mother has found out „her shame‟ (l. 384). Her mother answers:

'Daughter, daughter, remember you That cloud in the hills by Holycleugh? 'Twas a Hell-screen, hiding truth away: There, not i' the vale, the ambush lay, And thence was the dead borne home to-day.'

(„Rose Mary‟, ll. 418-422)

67 Since the Beryl-stone only shows the truth to the pure, Rose Mary did not get to see it:

O girl, they can seal the sinful eyes, Or show the truth by contraries! („Rose Mary, ll. 406-407)

The cloud that had prevented Rose Mary from having a clear view of the road, hid the fact that the actual ambush was on that alternative road. As a result, Rose Mary‟s lover is now dead and her mother knows that Rose Mary is no longer a virgin. Upon hearing this news, Rose Mary‟s heart breaks (l. 427), she gives „one shriek‟ (l. 432) and she sinks (l. 432). The mother decides to go for the priest for help:

What help can I seek, such grief to guide? Ah! one alone might avail,' she cried. - 'The priest who prays at the dead man's side.'

(„Rose Mary‟, ll. 455-457)

She urges the priest to „seek her, father, ere yet she wake‟ (l. 495) and stays with the dead knight herself. The mother blames the knight for bringing shame upon herself and her daughter but she can summon up the courage to forgive him because he loved her daughter and was going to be honourable by marrying her:

'By thy death have I learnt to-day Thy deed, O James of Heronhaye! Great wrong thou hast done to me and mine; And haply God hath wrought for a sign By our blind deed this doom of thine.

'Thy shrift, alas! thou wast not to win; But may death shrive thy soul herein! Full well do I know thy love should be Even yet - had life but stayed with thee – Our honour's strong security.'

(„Rose Mary‟, ll. 518-527)

68 At that point, however, another complication occurs. The mother notices „a packet close to the dead man‟s breast‟ (l. 532). It appears to be „a folded paper […], / And round it, twined with tenderest care, / A long bright tress of golden hair‟ (ll. 550-552). She reads the note and learns the knight was to marry another woman. The mother is enraged and exclaims: „O thou dead body and damnèd soul!‟ (l. 592). Just then the priest returns with the news that Rose Mary is nowhere to be found:

'I sought your child where you bade me go, And in rooms around and rooms below; But where, alas! may the maiden be? Fear nought, - we shall find her speedily, - But come, come hither, and seek with me.'

(„Rose Mary‟, ll. 598-602)

Another „Beryl-song‟ follows in which the spirits are lamenting the „desolate daughter‟ (l. 613) and are preparing the reader for what is yet to come: „Thou sleep‟st? Awake‟ (l. 628) and „rather die‟ (l. 633), they say. In part three of the narrative, we find out what happened to Rose Mary after her mother had left her to go for the priest. She woke up and did not seem to remember what happened:

She knew she had waded bosom-deep Along death's bank in the sedge of sleep: All else was lost to her clouded mind; Nor, looking back, could she see defin'd O'er the dim dumb waste what lay behind.

(„Rose Mary‟, ll. 677-681)

Thereupon, she „[raises] from the floor / And [drags] her steps to an open door‟ (ll. 697-698) which leads her to „the altar-cell‟ (l. 716), where her mother has been hiding the Beryl-stone. Upon seeing the crystal, the past is „brought back‟ (l. 761) until „all [is] known again‟ (l. 771), and she looks at the Beryl-stone full of hate (l. 786). In the name of Love and God (l. 838), she takes her father‟s sword and „[cleaves] the heart of the Beryl-stone‟ (l. 841). The next moment, the magic glass lies broken on the ground, the house is ruined and all is still:

69 When all was still on the air again The Beryl-stone lay cleft in twain; The veil was rent from the riven dome; And every wind that's winged to roam Might have the ruined place for home.

(„Rose Mary‟, ll. 862-866)

We find Rose Mary lying on the ground, dead:

And lo! on the ground Rose Mary lay, With a cold brow like the snows ere May, With a cold breast like the earth till Spring, With such a smile as the June days bring When the year grows warm for harvesting.

The death she had won might leave no trace On the soft sweet form and gentle face: In a gracious sleep she seemed to lie; And over her head her hand on high Held fast the sword she triumphed by.

(„Rose Mary‟, ll. 872-881)

At that moment „ a clear voice [says] in the room‟ (l. 882):

'Behold the end of the heavy doom. O come, - for thy bitter love's sake blest; By a sweet path now thou journeyest, And I will lead thee to thy rest.

(„Rose Mary‟, ll. 883-886)

The voice appears to belong to the spirit that was chased away from the crystal by Rose Mary‟s sin (ll. 887-888). Because she has „cast forth [the spirit‟s] foes‟ (l. 891), Rose Mary will be redeemed. While by her corpse people will mourn, her soul will go to the „Heaven of Love‟ (l. 896) and will forget about the man she died for, who will be in the „Hell of Treason‟ (l. 896). The poem is brought to a close with the third „Beryl-song‟, in which the evil spirits,

70 „cast forth from the Beryl‟ (l. 907), complain that they have no shelter left and that their scheme to „dissever [Rose Mary‟s] soul from its joy for ever‟ (l. 933) has fallen through.

In view of the events in the story, I would now like to look more closely at the flower imagery Rossetti uses in the representation of the figure of Rose Mary and at how it is modified in the course of the poem. She is presented to us for the first time by her mother as „Mary mine that art Mary‟s Rose‟ (l. 1). By playing with her name, Rose Mary is described as a rose, and, more specifically, with (the Virgin) Mary‟s rose. In the Middle Ages (very likely the time in which the story is set, judging from references to such things as knights, castles, pilgrimages, tourney-games, a war with the Muslims), as mentioned above, Mary was often symbolized by a (white) rose. By calling his character „Mary‟s Rose‟, Rossetti projects the virtues associated with the Virgin onto the former. Rose Mary is on several occasions described as being „pale‟ (ll. 25, 71, 313). This, indeed, makes of her the white rose so often associated with the Virgin Mary. Thus, at the beginning of the story, Rose Mary is presented as a virtuous, innocent, pure young woman. Because Rose Mary is so pure and without sin, her mother believes that her daughter is the perfect person to look into the magic glass: „what rose may be / In Mary‟s bower more pure to see / Than my own sweet maiden Rose Mary?‟ (ll. 278-280). At the beginning of the second part of the poem, Rose Mary‟s mother has already discovered that her daughter is no longer a „pure maiden‟. At that point, she describes Rose Mary as „a rose that Mary weeps upon‟ (l. 314). She imagines the Virgin Mary is crying because one of her white roses, an innocent young girl, has sinned. When she asks her daughter what should be done with such a rose, the young woman acknowledges that it would be best to „let it fall from the tree‟ (l. 315). Rose Mary is now called „a cankered flower beneath the sun‟ (l. 319). Now that she has admitted that she no longer belongs among the white roses, she is no longer described as pale either. She stood „tall […] with a cheek flushed high‟ (l. 358). That would make of her a red rose, associated with love and passion. In the third part of the poem, however, Rose Mary is once more described as being white („with a […] visage pale‟ (l. 740), „the face was white in the dark hair‟s flow‟ (l. 785), „the fair white hands‟ (l. 839)) which might be a signal of the recovery that will follow as a result of her faithfulness in love. However, Rose Mary is not to be a rose in „Mary‟s rose- bower‟ (l. 898) again. Her body will stay behind on earth, while her „true soul‟ (l. 897) will go to a „place afar / with guerdon-fires of the sweet Love-star / Where hearts of steadfast lovers

71 are‟ (ll. 899-901). Since she is a spirit now, she cannot be compared to a flower anymore. Her body is the part of her left with the „rose-flower and rosemary‟ (l. 906).

Roper Howard reads the use of rose imagery in this poem in a somewhat different way. The meaning she chooses to assign to the rose in the poem is the one of secrecy.206 Indeed, as mentioned above, the rose occasionally is used as a symbol of secrecy. In „Rose Mary‟, this interpretation of the rose is a suitable one, given the sin Rose Mary sought to hide from her mother. Furthermore, both Roper Howard and Hyder point out the significance of the reference to rosemary in the last line, but they attribute different meanings to the plant. Hyder claims that „rosemary‟ in this case, next to being a pun on Rose Mary, stands for „remembrance‟.207 I think this interpretation seems sensible. In the first place, rosemary is typically used as a sign that the dead will be remembered, and in the poem, it is laid with the corpse. However, I think the herb, when attributed to remembrance, might also imply that Rose Mary‟s memories are left behind together with her body, while her soul no longer cares about what happened. Indeed, as the spirit says: „Already thy heart remembereth / No more his name thou sought‟st in death‟ (ll. 892-893). In Roper Howard‟s opinion, the reference to rosemary (which she interprets as „an emblem of fidelity or constancy‟208) is even more important in the context of the poem than that to the rose. She writes that it is symbolic of „the trueness of [Rose Mary‟s] love‟209 that „saves [her]‟.210 Indeed, Rose Mary will go to heaven whereas her knight will be sent to hell for his betrayal. The interpretations of rosemary as a symbol of remembrance or as one of fidelity both seem to fit into the context of the poem. Although in „Rose Mary‟, the flower images can be interpreted in various ways, their possible significances all seem to be sensible when one keeps in mind the themes of the poem. The use of the comparison of Rose Mary with a rose in particular seems to be carefully

206 See Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass, p. 153. 207 See Clyde K. Hyder, “Rossetti‟s Rose Mary: A study in the Occult”, Victorian Poetry 1 (1963): pp. 197-207, quoted in Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass, p. 153. Hyder for this meaning of the flowering herb relies on the reference made to it in Shakespeare‟s Hamlet. According to „rosemary [is] for remembrance‟ (Hamlet, IV.5. l. 174). Indeed, the herb was commonly believed to strengthen the memory. Rosemary is in addition associated with death. In past centuries in Europe, it has often been used at funerals and on graves for three reasons. It was used as a sign that the deceased would be remembered, it was believed to hold off evil spirits, and because it remains green throughout the year, it symbolizes immortality. Next to these meanings, rosemary can carry yet another one. It was also worn at weddings as a symbol of fertility and of fidelity between lovers. I rely on: Marcel De Cleene and Marie Claire Lejeune, Compendium van rituele planten in Europa, pp. 950-960; Jack Goody, The Culture of Flowers, pp. 179-181, p. 284, p. 291; Claire Powell, The Meaning of Flowers, p. 121. 208 See Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass, p. 153. 209 See Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass, p. 153. 210 See Ronnalie Roper Howard, The Dark Glass, pp. 153-154.

72 chosen and it is modified as our knowledge about the figure of Rose Mary changes in the course of the poem.

4.4. ‘I am the poet of the body, And I am the poet of the soul’211

4.4.1. The rose and the poppy212

The various shades of meaning that the rose refers to have already been discussed above. However, the meanings traditionally attributed to the poppy, the second sort of flower used in the poems I am about to discuss, are still to be introduced below. In antiquity, the Greeks soon discovered the narcotic qualities of the poppy. They made it the flower of their gods Hypnos and Morpheus, which were the gods of sleep and dreams. Subsequently, in Europe the poppy was associated with sleep, peace and quiet throughout the following centuries. Images of poppies were often used to decorate graves, with death being interpreted as an eternal sleep. A well-known example of the application of the poppy as a symbol of death and peace is the poem „In Flanders Fields‟, written by the Canadian medical doctor John McCrae during the first world war. In his poem the flowers symbolize the peace that will come as a result of those who have died fighting for it. As expected, the poppy, too, can be the symbol of numerous other concepts besides the most common ones of peace, sleep and death. In antiquity it was also considered to be a symbol of fertility because of the myriad seeds it contained. In addition, considering the blood red colour of the petals, which make the flower stand out among others, it could represent pride as well. Its red colour together with the meaning of death caused the Christians to refer to the poppy as a symbol for the suffering of Christ. In other cases, poppies are said to be flowers that can offer consolation or that can predict the future in matters of love.

211 Walt Whitman, „Song of Myself‟ (ll. 422-423) in Leaves of Grass, 1855. Full text in William E. Cain, American Literature, pp. 1225-1278. 212 For information on the poppy, I rely on : Marcel De Cleene and Marie Claire Lejeune, Compendium van rituele planten in Europa, pp. 862-877; Jack Goody, The Culture of Flowers, p. 298; Claire Powell, The Meaning of Flowers, p. 152.

73 4.4.2. ‘Body’s Beauty’

Rossetti wrote the sonnet „Body‟s Beauty‟ in 1867.213 However, at that time and when it was published in the 1870 Poems volume, the title of the sonnet was „Lilith‟. This poem, just like „Mary‟s Girlhood‟ and „The Blessed Damozel‟, is an example of the many „double works of art‟ Rossetti made during his artistic career. It was written to accompany the painting entitled , which Rossetti completed in 1868.214 By the time the sonnet was re- published in The House of Life sonnet sequence, which was included in the 1881 volume Ballads and Sonnets, Rossetti had renamed the sonnet „Body‟s Beauty‟.

The painting Lady Lilith portrays a young woman, combing her long hair while she is looking into a mirror. She is sitting in a room, surrounded by several types of flowers. According to art historian Elizabeth Prettejohn, the subject and meaning of this painting probably came about in several phases.215 Her guess is that Rossetti initially intended to paint a randomly chosen woman, making her toilet and it was only later on that the artist decided to associate it with Lady Lilith in particular.

Now, who is Lady Lilith? In the Talmudic tradition216, she was the first wife of Adam before Eve was created.217 There are only a few literary references to her, one of which is to be found in Goethe‟s Faust (1808). In the German author‟s story, the main character, Faust, is warned against Lilith by the devil Mephistopheles. In a few verses Goethe writes about Lilith‟s hair and how mesmerizing it is:

“Beware of her hair, for she excels All women in the magic of her locks And when she twines them round a young man‟s neck She will not ever set him free again.”218

213 See Appendix, p. 120. 214 See Appendix, p. 129. (fig. 4) 215 See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 191. 216 The Talmud is a collection of ancient writings on Jewish law and traditions. See Sally Wehmeier (ed.), Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary of Current English, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), p. 1328. 217 Lilith, according to the Hebrew legend, was created from the dust (and not, like Eve, from Adam‟s rib). Therefore, she considered herself to be Adam‟s equal and she did not want to submit to him. She had her revenge on God and Adam by hurting babies, mainly male babies, who in the legend are said to have been more vulnerable to her assaults. See Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar, The Madwoman in the Attic, p. 35. 218 This is the poet Percy Bysshe Shelley‟s translation of Goethe‟s lines, quoted in Virginia M. Allen, “„One Strangling Golden Hair‟: Dante Gabriel Rossetti‟s Lady Lilith.”, p. 290.

74 As we will see below, Rossetti incorporated the same idea in his poem „Body‟s Beauty‟.

Another reference to the legend of Lilith was put in writing by Gabriel Rossetti himself, namely in the poem entitled „Eden Bower‟.219 „Eden Bower‟ was written in 1869, so after bringing up the figure of Lilith in Lady Lilith and in „Body‟s Beauty‟, Rossetti returned to the legendary character once more a few years later.

In „Eden Bower‟ Rossetti combines the Talmudic legend, in which the figure of Lilith has its roots, with the Biblical legend of Adam and Eve into a story about Lilith‟s plan for passionate revenge on God, Adam and Eve. At the beginning of her long monologue, Lilith complains to the snake, who was her lover at the time Lilith was still a snake herself, about what happened. Lilith and Adam were having „great joys‟ (l. 29), until God „of Adam‟s flesh […] [made] him a woman‟ (l. 40). She explains to the snake that now she wants to take revenge on her rivals in Eden. Because she needs his help, she tries to convince him to assist her by promising she will be his lover as before:

„Help me once against Eve and Adam! […] Help me once for this one endeavour, And then my love shall be thine for ever!

„Strong is God, the fell foe of Lilith: […] Nought in heaven or earth may affright him; But join with me and we will smite him.

(„Eden Bower‟, ll. 49-56)

The snake hears about what Lilith hopes to bring about in the near future. Her plan is to borrow the serpent‟s shape…

„In thy shape I‟ll go back to Eden

(„Eden Bower‟, l. 93)

219 See Appendix, p. 120.

75 … and to convince Eve to eat the infamous apple:

„Then Eve shall eat and give unto Adam

(„Eden Bower‟, l. 109)

This is where the Talmudic and the Biblical legends come together. In Rossetti‟s version of the stories, Adam and Eve‟s expulsion and downfall is caused by Lilith. The characteristics Rossetti ascribes to his female protagonist in „Eden Bower‟ remind one of the way he presented her in his earlier poem „Body‟s Beauty‟. As we will see below in the discussion of „Body‟s Beauty‟, the poet states in that sonnet that Lilith is a witch. Similarly, in „Eden Bower‟, she is said to look like „a soft sweet woman‟ (l. 4) while in fact „not a drop of her blood was human‟ (l. 3). In both poems, Lilith is presented as a figure having supernatural qualities. However, in „Body‟s Beauty‟, although she leads men to death, she does not seem to intend to do so. In „Eden Bower‟, on the contrary, she appears to be evil to the core: „With her was hell and with Eve was heaven‟ (l. 8). Another similarity between this poem and the sonnet is the importance attributed to Lilith‟s hair with regard to the power she has over men. In her monologue she mentions that Adam‟s heart was caught in the net which was formed by the threads of her hair and that the selfsame trickery made her his queen (before Eve was created):

All the threads of my hair are golden, And there in a net his heart was holden.

„O and Lilith was queen of Adam!

(„Eden Bower‟, ll. 23-25)

As mentioned above, the same woman is at the centre of the sonnet „Body‟s Beauty‟. In this poem, Rossetti clarifies exactly who this Lady Lilith is who is portrayed on the painting with which the poem is matched. As we already know, Lilith was „Adam‟s first wife‟ (l. 1). Seemingly innocent in the painting, Lilith is in fact, according to the narrator of the sonnet, a „witch‟ (l. 2). In stories passed on about her, we read that she could deceive people with her words even before the snake in the Garden of Eden: „[I]t is told / […] / That, ere the snake's, her sweet tongue could deceive‟ (ll. 1-3). Her hair is also commonly mentioned in the

76 legends, and people assume that it looked as if it was made of the first gold. The word „enchanted‟ (l. 4) that accompanies „hair‟ (l. 4), serves as an affirmation of Lilith‟s witch-like qualities. In the next few lines of the octave Lilith is compared to a spider that casually looks on, as flies are caught in its web. Here, however, the victims are men. They are drawn to Lilith and then caught in the „bright web‟ (l. 7) of her hair, just like Adam in „Eden Bower‟. Once those men are trapped, Lilith is in control of their hearts, bodies and lives (l. 8). In lines five to eight, the tense of the verbs is the present tense, because, as we are told in line five, Lilith still lives on: „And still she sits, young while the earth is old‟ (l. 5). This should be seen in the light of a comment on the painting Lady Lilith in one of Rossetti‟s letters. As we have seen, Rossetti‟s original idea was to paint a contemporary woman. Later on, he decided to name the figure Lady Lilith. However, in this letter, he claimed that the painting, even after he had given it its present title Lady Lilith, represented a modern woman making her toilet.220 This seems to suggest that the figure depicted in the painting and described in the sonnet represents the „femme fatale‟ in general rather than one particular woman. Rossetti seems to imply that women with characteristics like Lady Lilith‟s can be found in all ages. The poet‟s choice to change the poem‟s title from the specific „Lilith‟ to the more general „Body‟s Beauty‟ supports this interpretation. It allows the reader to extrapolate characteristics attributed to Lilith and apply them to other women. In the sestet of the sonnet the narrator addresses Lilith. Again, given that he can talk to her in the present, she might as well be a contemporary woman. In line nine of the poem two sorts of flowers that are also depicted in the painting are mentioned, namely the rose and the poppy. They seem to be an indissoluble part of Lilith because the poet calls them „her flowers‟ (l. 9). Indeed, they appear to play an important role in Lilith‟s ability to wield power over men. „For‟, as the speaker rhetorically asks Lilith, „where / Is he not found, […], whom shed scent / And soft-shed kisses and soft sleep shall snare?‟ (ll. 9-11). No man has ever been able to resist either the perfume of the roses or the sleep-inducing effect of the poppies and when combined with Lilith‟s kisses, men tend to become defenceless. It seems that, at the very time the narrator is speaking, Lilith is capturing another man. A young man has just looked into her eyes and she bewitched him by looking back: „Lo! as that youth‟s eyes burned at thine, so went / Thy spell through him‟ (ll. 12-13). This „left his straight neck bent‟ (l. 13), which can mean that she either makes him submissive or that she kills him. Moreover, by means of her hair, she strangles his heart. I think this might imply that either she is then the

220 See The Letters of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, ed. Oswald Doughty and John Robert Wahl, part II, p. 850, quoted in Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 66.

77 only one on his mind by taking total possession of his heart, meaning his feelings, or again that she physically kills him. The rose and the poppy in this sonnet serve multiple functions. Literally, they assist Lilith in her schemes to attract and bewilder men, the rose because of its sweet scent and the poppy because of its promise of a soft sleep. However, they also have their symbolic meaning in the poem. They seem to go along with Lilith‟s qualities and actions. The rose, I think, stands for the beauty Lilith possesses with which she draws men to her, and also for the love (the kisses) she promises them. In this poem I would interpret the poppy in its meaning of death. Lilith seems to offer men a soft sleep but in fact, as the last lines suggest, she takes their life, offering them „the eternal sleep‟.

4.4.3. ‘Soul’s Beauty’

The sonnet „Soul‟s Beauty‟ was written by Rossetti in 1867.221 It acquired its present title as late as 1881 when it was re-published in The House of Life sonnet sequence, which was included in Rossetti‟s Ballads and Sonnets. Before that date, the poem was entitled „Sibylla Palmifera‟, given that it was meant to accompany a painting with the same title.222 Moreover, „Soul‟s Beauty‟ and Sibylla Palmifera were meant to be contrasted with „Body‟s Beauty‟ and Lady Lilith.

The painting Sibylla Palmifera portrays a young dark-haired woman holding a palm in a room filled with flowers, fire, incense and figurines. Prettejohn explains that Rossetti modified the title of this painting a few times in the course of years.223 When he started to paint the composition in 1865, it was called Palmifera, referring to the palm in the woman‟s hand.224 In one of his letters Rossetti declared that the palm indicated that he wanted this figure to have a leading position among the other women he had painted.225 By 1867 the term

221 See Appendix, p. 125. 222 See Appendix, p. 129. (fig. 5) 223 See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 192-193. 224 The palm has since time immemorial been associated with heroes because it was meant to be a sign of victory. Next to that, it is a symbol of eternal life and steadfastness because of its evergreen leaves and because it looks the same throughout the year. In some European countries, yet another quality was attributed to the palm. It was believed to hold powers relating to prediction. I rely on: Marcel De Cleene and Marie Claire Lejeune, Compendium van rituele planten in Europa, pp. 843-861; Jack Goody, The Culture of Flowers, p. 154; Claire Powell, The Meaning of Flowers, p. 150. 225 See William Michael Rossetti, Dante Gabriel Rossetti as Designer and Writer. (London: Cassell, 1889), quoted in Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 192.

78 „Sibylla‟ was added to the title. It is derived from the concept of the „sibyl‟, in classic mythology the name for a woman who can see the future.226

In the first part of the accompanying sonnet, the speaker tells us how he has seen „Beauty‟ personified (l. 3), more specifically, as the title suggests, spiritual beauty. She was sitting on her throne „Under the arch of Life‟ (l. 1) and she was surrounded by „love and death‟ (l. 1) and „terror and mystery‟227 (l. 2). We are told that her eyes drew the speaker to her and that he looked at her admiringly. In the second part of the poem, the painting which it was meant to accompany is referred to when the speaker says: „This is that Lady Beauty‟ (l. 9). We learn that the woman portrayed in the painting is the woman the speaker has seen. The speaker‟s „voice and hand shake still‟ (l. 10) while he is talking about her and both his „heart and feet‟ are „following her daily‟ (l. 12). The speaker of the poem is in constant pursuit of spiritual beauty. Rossetti told his brother that in this sonnet and the accompanying painting he presented intellectual beauty, which „draws all high-toned men to itself, whether with the aim of embodying it in art or only of attaining its enjoyment in life‟.228 No flowers are mentioned in „Soul‟s Beauty‟, at least not literally. On the accompanying painting, however, Sibylla Palmifera, like Lady Lilith, is surrounded by roses and poppies. What is mentioned in the sonnet is what these are meant to symbolize, namely the concepts of love and death referred to in the first line. The attributes depicted on the left- hand side in the background of the painting, the roses, the cupid sculpture and the flame, are all three symbols of love.229 On the right-hand side, the poppies are a symbol of death, together with the skull and the censer.230 The butterflies are also associated with death: traditionally they symbolize the liberated human soul.231

I should like to elaborate on the sonnets „Body‟s Beauty‟ and „Soul‟s Beauty‟ and their flower symbolism when confronting them in the following section of the chapter.

226 See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 193. 227 Prettejohn suspects that the „terror‟ and „mystery‟ in the sonnet are represented in the painting on the alcove in the background. On the left of that alcove there is a sculptured creature, possibly a snake, and on the right there is a sphinx. These figures would then symbolize respectively „terror‟ and „mystery‟. See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 193. 228 See William Michael Rossetti, Dante Gabriel Rossetti as Designer and Writer, p. 56, quoted in Jerome McGann, “Soul‟s Beauty”. The Complete Writings and Pictures of Dante Gabriel Rossetti: A Hypermedia Research Archive. Ed. Jerome McGann. (Charlottesville: Institute for Advanced Technology in the Humanities, 2000-2007). 06 April 2007. (http://www.rossettiarchive.org/docs/1-1867.s193.raw.html); Elizabeth Prettejohn, Rossetti and his Circle, p. 10. 229 See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 193. 230 See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 193. 231 See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 189.

79

4.4.4. ‘Body’s Beauty’ and ‘Soul’s Beauty’: each other’s opposites?

The paintings Lady Lilith and Sibylla Palmifera were, according to Elizabeth Prettejohn, linked up round about 1867, when they were both as good as completed and their accompanying sonnets were written.232 In 1868, Rossetti‟s author-friend Swinburne wrote an article in which he published the sonnets and discussed the paintings they were matched with at length.233 At that time, the titles of the sonnets had not yet been changed from „Lady Lilith‟ and „Sibylla Palmifera‟ into „Body‟s Beauty‟ and „Soul‟s Beauty‟ by their writer. Even so, Swinburne already then conceived of the double works of art as being each other‟s opposites. He argued that while Lilith is a siren possessing physical beauty, Sibylla is the sibyl holding spiritual beauty. Elizabeth Prettejohn agrees with the interpretation of these female figures as the embodiment of the beauty of the body and the beauty of the soul respectively. According to Prettejohn, they represent opposite aspects of beauty which can be applied to women as well as to art:

The two pairs of sonnets and pictures can easily be interpreted as symbolising the conventional Victorian dichotomy between Madonna and Magdalen, wife and whore. They can also be read as symbolising the dichotomy between the spiritual and physical in art. 234

Thus, at first glance, the „bad woman‟ Lady Lilith with her physical beauty is opposed to the „good woman‟ Sibylla Palmifera with her intellectual beauty. However, as Prettejohn notes, the opposition between the two turns out not to be so straightforward. She draws attention to the similarities Rossetti incorporated into the paintings and sonnets. Both types of beauty are said to attract those who see them.235 Lady Lilith „snares‟ (l. 12) men by her physical beauty. Sibylla Palmifera‟s psychological beauty „can draw‟ (l. 6) them to her as well. However, as Prettejohn notes, Rossetti does not represent spiritual beauty

232 See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 193. 233 See William Michael Rossetti and Algernon Charles Swinburne, Notes on the Royal Academy Exhibition, 1868 (London: John Camden Hotten, 1868), p. 46, quoted in Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 192. 234 See Elizabeth Prettejohn, Rossetti and his Circle, pp. 30-31. 235 See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 192.

80 as free from human passion.236 Sibylla‟s outward appearances, her eyes (l. 5), her „flying hair‟ (l. 11) and „fluttering hem‟ (l. 11), seem to have an appealing effect on men as well. Also, both women have supernatural qualities. Whereas Lilith is said to be a witch, Sibylla, as her name suggests, can see into the future. Even more striking, however, is the fact that Rossetti associates the two personifications of beauty with the same flowers: the roses and poppies in the painting and the sonnet with Lilith at the centre are also depicted in Sibylla‟s painting.237 Both women are associated with love and death. This might suggest that they are more alike than they seem at first glance. In fact, one woman modelled for both paintings. Rossetti decided to replace the features of Fanny Cornforth,238 the first model for Lady Lilith, by those of Alexa Wilding,239 who had already modelled for Sibylla Palmifera. As a result, the paintings now portray the same woman. To complicate matters even more, the roses in the background of the painting of Lady Lilith are coloured white (just like her dress) whereas the roses behind Sibylla Palmifera (and her dress) are red.240 As we have seen above, white roses are associated with innocence and purity. Here, however, Rossetti makes them the attributes of the ill-natured temptress Lilith. Red roses, on the other hand, are traditionally a sign of passionate love. Here, however, Rossetti has chosen to associate them with Sibylla Palmifera, the woman embodying spiritual beauty. Prettejohn concludes from this that the women are „at least as similar as they are dichotomous‟.241 Considering this information, Elizabeth Prettejohn believes that Rossetti wanted to undermine the Victorian tradition of representing the virtuous, intellectual woman and the evil, seductive one as two absolute opposites. 242 At first glance it looks as if he makes use of the opposition himself. However, by providing the conventional flower symbolism with an intentional twist, we are left wondering „which is the saint, which is the witch? And which should we prefer?‟243 Rossetti seems to suggest that the distinction between the principles of good and bad is not easily made.

236 See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 193. 237 See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 192. 238 Fanny Cornforth may have been Rossetti‟s mistress and was one of his regular models. See Chapter 1. 239 Alexa Wilding modelled for several of Rossetti‟s paintings. See Chapter 1. 240 See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 66. 241 See Elizabeth Prettejohn, Rossetti and his Circle, p. 31. 242 See Julian Treuherz, Elizabeth Prettejohn and Edwin Becker, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 192. 243 See Elizabeth Prettejohn, Rossetti and his Circle, p. 31.

81 4.5. Conclusion

In this chapter, we have seen that Rossetti, in keeping with Victorian tradition, matches the women at the centre of the poems I have selected, with particular flower images. As we have seen, he did this for a purpose. As the flowers symbolize specific qualities, they can influence our interpretation of the female figure they are linked with. The flowers are meant to symbolize specific concepts or qualities. In this way, when linked with the female figure in a particular poem, they provide information about the character‟s personality. Rossetti interpreted the lily, in accordance with tradition, as a sign of innocence and purity. By making it the attribute of Mary and the blessed Damozel, he underscored the virtuous nature of the good ladies in his early poems. Rossetti‟s „fallen woman‟ Jenny lost her link with the lily. Her symbol was the red rose because her main quality was her beauty. In „Rose Mary‟, one of Rossetti‟s later poems, the poet still made use of flower images to have the reader associate the female figure with certain characteristics. However, in this poem, Rossetti used the flower imagery in an ironic way. Rose Mary was equalled to a white rose, the sign of purity, although she was no longer innocent. That Rossetti‟s symbolism in later years would become more ambiguous, was already foreshadowed in the pair of sonnets „Body‟s Beauty‟ and „Soul‟s Beauty‟. It is exactly the use of flower imagery in those poems (and their paintings) that prevented the reader from drawing a distinction between the good and the bad woman. Rossetti seemed to simultaneously challenge the Victorian traditional opposition between the virtuous and the evil woman and to suggest that a flower image alone is not enough to represent the whole character of a person.

82 Conclusion

My intention with this dissertation was to determine to what end Dante Gabriel Rossetti, in accordance with Victorian tradition, made use of flower images when writing about a female figure. The flower images in the poems I selected were vehicles of symbolic meaning. I concluded that, by using floral symbolism in the presentation of a female character, Rossetti affected the reader‟s impression of this central figure. By approaching the flower imagery as a rich and inventive symbolic poetic means, the reader can attribute certain qualities to the woman described in the poem. In this way, we can make a rough distinction between Rossetti‟s „good‟ and „bad‟ female characters. In Sharp‟s opinion, „decoding‟ a symbol in a painting is a „pleasanter method of discovery than having to look […] to the explanation of a printed catalogue.‟244 In his poetry too, Rossetti used flower images to inform the reader about the woman he was describing in a non-prosaic way. This was certainly the case in the earlier poems I have been discussing. In later works, Rossetti still gave the floral images he used common symbolic meanings. However, in those later poems, he seemed to „play‟ and experiment with his own method of representing and delineating the personality of his female figure by means of a symbol. In later poems, he used flower imagery in an ironical way, or at least he made the imagery ambiguous. The riches and versatility to be found in Dante Gabriel Rossetti‟s poetry, I strongly believe, cannot be conjectured and rendered in one formula or magic phrase. I think that the habit of studying his literary work from a biographical point of view only, does not do enough honour to its ingenuity.

244 See William Sharp, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, p. 117.

83 Appendix

Poems

Mary's Girlhood (FOR A PICTURE)

I

This is that blessed Mary, pre-elect God's Virgin. Gone is a great while, and she Was young in Nazareth of Galilee. Her kin she cherished with devout respect: her gifts were simpleness of intellect, 5 And supreme patience. From her mother's knee Faithful and hopeful; wise in charity; Strong in grave peace; in duty circumspect.

So held she through her girlhood; as it were An angel-watered lily, that near God 10 Grows and is quiet. Till, one dawn at home She woke in her white bed, and had no fear At all, - yet wept till sunshine, and felt awed: Because the fulness of the time was come.

II

These are the symbols. On that cloth of red 15 I' the centre is the Tripoint: perfect each, Except the second of its points, to teach That Christ is not yet born. The books - whose head Is golden Charity, as Paul hath said - Those virtues are wherein the soul is rich: 20 Therefore on them the lily standeth, which Is Innocence bring interpreted.

The seven-thorn'd briar and the palm seven-leaved Are her great sorrow and her great reward. Until the end be full, the - Holy One 25 Abides without. She soon shall have achieved Her perfect purity: yea, God the Lord Shall soon vouchsafe His Son to be her Son.

84 The Blessed Damozel

The blessed Damozel leaned out From the gold bar of Heaven: Her blue grave eyes were deeper much Than a deep water, even. She had three lilies in her hand, 5 And the stars in her hair were seven.

Her robe, ungirt from clasp to hem, No wrought flowers did adorn, But a white rose of Mary's gift On the neck meetly worn; 10 And her hair, lying down her back, Was yellow like ripe corn.

Herseemed she scarce had been a day One of God's choristers; The wonder was not yet quite gone 15 From that still look of hers; Albeit to them she left, her day Had counted as ten years.

(To one it is ten years of years: ..... Yet now, here in this place 20 Surely she leaned o'er me, - her hair Fell all about my face...... Nothing: the Autumn-fall of leaves. The whole year sets apace.)

It was the terrace of God's house 25 That she was standing on, - By God built over the sheer depth In which Space is begun; So high, that looking downward thence, She could scarce see the sun. 30

It lies from Heaven across the flood Of ether, as a bridge. Beneath, the tides of day and night With flame and blackness ridge The void, as low as where this earth 35 Spins like a fretful midge.

But in those tracts, with her, it was The peace of utter light And silence. For no breeze may stir Along the steady flight 40 Of seraphim; no echo there,

85 Beyond all depth or height.

Heard hardly, some of her new friends Playing at holy games Spake, gentle-mouthed, among themselves, 45 Their virginal chaste names; And the souls, mounting up to God Went by her like thin flames.

And still she bowed herself, and stooped Into the vast waste calm; 50 Till her bosom‟s pressure must have made The bar she leaned on warm, And the lilies lay as if asleep Along her bended arm.

From the fixt lull of heaven she saw 55 Time like a pulse, shake fierce Through all the worids. Her gaze still strove, In that steep gulph, to pierce The swarm: and then she spake as when The stars sang in their spheres. 60

“I wish that he were come to me, For he will come,” she said. “Have I not prayed in solemn heaven? On earth, has he not prayed? Are not two prayers a perfect strength? 65 And shall I feel afraid?

“When round his head the aureole clings, And he is clothed in white, I'll take his hand, and go with him To the deep wells of light, 70 And we will step down as to a stream And bathe there in God's sight.

“We two will stand beside that shrine, Occult, withheld, untrod, Whose lamps stremble continually 75 With prayer sent up to God; And where each need, revealed, expects Its patient period.

“We two will lie - i' the shadow of That living mystic tree 80 Within whose secret growth the Dove Sometimes is felt to be, While every leaf that His plumes touch Saith His Name audibly.

86

“And I myself will teach to him - 85 I myself, lying so, - The songs I sing here; which his mouth Shall pause in, hushed and slow, Finding some knowledge at each pause And some new thing to know.” 90

(Alas! to her wise simple mind These things were all but known Before: they trembled on her sense, - Her voice had caught their tone. Alas for lonely Heaven! Alas 95 For life wrung out alone!

Alas, and though the end were reached?…… Was thy part understood Or borne in trust? And for her sake Shall this too be found good? – 100 May the close lips that knew not prayer Praise ever, though they would?)

“We two,” she said, “will seek the groves Where the lady Mary is, With her five handmaidens, whose names 105 Are five sweet symphonies: – Cecily, Gertrude, Magdalen, Margaret and Rosalys.

“Circle-wise sit they, with bound locks And bosoms covered; 110 Into the fine cloth, white like flame Weaving the golden thread, To fashion the birth-robes for them Who are just born, being dead.

“He shall fear haply, and be dumb: 115 Then will I lay my cheek To his, and tell about our love, Not once abashed or weak: And the dear Mother will approve My pride, and let me speak. 120

“Herself shall bring us, hand in hand, To Him round whom all souls Kneel – the unnumber‟d solemn heads Bowed with their aureoles: And Angels meeting us, shall sing 125 To their citherns and citoles.

87 “There will I ask of Christ the Lord Thus much for him and me: – To have more blessing then on earth In nowise; but to be 130 As then we were, – being as then At peace. Yea, verily.

“Yea verily; when he is come We will do thus and thus: Till this my vigil seem quite strange 135 And almost fabulous; We two will live at once, one life; And peace shall be with us.”

She gazed and listened and then said, Less sad of speech than mild: 140 “All this is when he comes.” She ceased; The light thrilled past her, filled With Angels, in strong level lapse. Her eyes prayed, and she smiled.

(I saw her smile.) But soon their flight 145 Was vague „mid the poised spheres: And then she cast her arms along The golden barriers, And laid her face between her hands, And wept. (I heard her tears.) 150

Jenny

'Vengeance of Jenny's case! Fie on her! Never name her, child!' (Mistress Quickly)

Lazy laughing languid Jenny, Fond of a kiss and fond of a guinea, Whose head upon my knee to-night Rests for a while, as if grown light With all our dances and the sound 5 To which the wild tunes spun you round: Fair Jenny mine, the thoughtless queen Of kisses which the blush between Could hardly make much daintier; Whose eyes are as blue skies, whose hair 10 Is countless gold incomparable: Flesh flower, scarce touched with signs that tell Of Love's exuberant hotbed: – Nay, Poor flower left torn since yesterday

88 Until tomorrow leave you bare; 15 Poor handful of bright spring-water Flung in the whirlpool's shrieking face; Poor shameful Jenny, full of grace Thus with your head upon my knee; - Whose person or whose purse may be 20 The lodestar of your reverie?

This room of yours, my Jenny, looks A change from mine so full of books, Whose serried ranks hold fast, forsooth, So many captive hours of youth, - 25 The hours they thieve from day and night To make one's cherished work come right, And leave it wrong for all their theft, Even as to-night my work was left: Until I vowed that since my brain 30 And eyes of dancing seemed so fain, My feet should have some dancing too: - And thus it was I met with you. Well, I suppose 'twas hard to part, For here I am. And now, sweetheart, 35 You seem too tired to get to bed.

It was a careless life I led When rooms like this were scarce so strange Not long ago. What breeds the change, - The many aims or the few years? 40 Because to-night it all appears Something I do not know again.

The cloud's not danced out of my brain, - The cloud that made it turn and swim While hour by hour the books grew dim. 45 Why, Jenny, as I watch you there, - For all your wealth of loosened hair, Your silk ungirdled and unlac'd And warm sweets open to the waist, All golden in the lamplight's gleam, - 50 You know not what a book you seem, Half-read by lightning in a dream! How should you know, my Jenny? Nay, And I should be ashamed to say: - Poor beauty, so well worth a kiss! 55 But while my thought runs on like this With wasteful whims more than enough, I wonder what you're thinking of.

If of myself you think at all, What is the thought? - conjectural 60

89 On sorry matters best unsolved? – Or inly is each grace revolved To fit me with a lure? - or (sad To think!) perhaps you're merely glad That I'm not drunk or ruffianly 65 And let you rest upon my knee.

For sometimes, were the truth confess'd, You're thankful for a little rest, – Glad from the crush to rest within, From the heart-sickness and the din 70 Where envy's voice at virtue's pitch Mocks you because your gown is rich; And from the pale girl's dumb rebuke, Whose ill-clad grace and toil-worn look Proclaim the strength that keeps her weak 75 And other nights than yours bespeak; And from the wise unchildish elf To schoolmate lesser than himself Pointing you out, what thing you are: – Yes, from the daily jeer and jar, 80 From shame and shame's outbraving too, Is rest not sometimes sweet to you? – But most from the hatefulness of man Who spares not to end what he began. Whose acts are ill and his speech ill, 85 Who, having used you at his will, Thrusts you aside as when I dine I serve the dishes and the wine.

Well, handsome Jenny mine, sit up, I've filled our glasses, let us sup, 90 And do not let me think of you, Lest shame of yours suffice for two. What, still so tired? Well, well then, keep Your head there, so you do not sleep; But that the weariness may pass 95 And leave you merry, take this glass. Ah! lazy lily hand, more bless'd If ne'er in rings it had been dress'd Nor ever by a glove conceal'd!

Behold the lilies of the field, 100 They toil not neither do they spin; (So doth the ancient text begin, – Not of such rest as one of these Can share.) Another rest and ease Along each summer-sated path 105 From its new lord the garden hath, Than that whose spring in blessings ran

90 Which praised the bounteous husbandman, Ere yet, in days of hankering breath, The lilies sickened unto death. 110

What, Jenny, are your lilies dead? Aye, and the snow-white leaves are spread Like winter on the garden-bed. But you had roses left in May, – They were not gone too. Jenny, nay, 115 But must your roses die, and those Their purfled buds that should unclose? Even so; the leaves are curled apart, Still red as from the broken heart, And here's the naked stem of thorns. 120

Nay, nay, mere words. Here nothing warns As yet of winter. Sickness here Or want alone could waken fear, – Nothing but passion wrings a tear. Except when there may rise unsought 125 Haply at times a passing thought Of the old days which seem to be Much older than any history That is written in any book; When she would lie in fields and look 130 Along the ground through the blown grass, And wonder where the city was, Far out of sight, whose broil and bale They told her then for a child's tale.

Jenny, you know the city now. 135 A child can tell the tale there, how Some things which are not yet enroll'd In market-lists are bought and sold Even till the early Sunday light, When Saturday night is market-night 140 Everywhere, be it dry or wet, And market-night in the Haymarket. Our learned London children know, Poor Jenny, all your pride and woe; Have seen your lifted silken skirt 145 Advertise dainties through the dirt; Have seen your coach-wheels splash rebuke On virtue; and have learned your look When, wealth and health slipped past, you stare Along the streets alone, and there, 150 Round the long park, across the bridge, The cold lamps at the pavement's edge Wind on together and apart, A fiery serpent for your heart.

91

Let the thoughts pass, an empty cloud! 155 Suppose I were to think aloud, – What if to her all this were said? Why, as a volume seldom read Being opened halfway shuts again, So might the pages of her brain 160 Be parted at such words, and thence Close back upon the dusty sense. For is there hue or shape defin'd In Jenny's desecrated mind, Where all contagious currents meet, 165 A Lethe of the middle street? Nay, it reflects not any face, Nor sound is in its sluggish pace, But as they coil those eddies clot, And night and day remember not. 170

Why, Jenny, you're asleep at last! – Asleep, poor Jenny, hard and fast, – So young and soft and tired; so fair, With chin thus nestled in your hair, Mouth quiet, eyelids almost blue 175 As if some sky of dreams shone through!

Just as another woman sleeps! Enough to throw one's thoughts in heaps Of doubt and horror, – what to say Or think, – this awful secret sway, 180 The potter's power over the clay! Of the same lump (it has been said) For honour and dishonour made, Two sister vessels. Here is one.

My cousin Nell is fond of fun, 185 And fond of dress, and change, and praise, So mere a woman in her ways: And if her sweet eyes rich in youth Are like her lips that tell the truth, My cousin Nell is fond of love. 190 And she's the girl I'm proudest of. Who does not prize her, guard her well? The love of change, in cousin Nell, Shall find the best and hold it dear: The unconquered mirth turn quieter 195 Not through her own, through others' woe: The conscious pride of beauty glow Beside another's pride in her, One little part of all they share. For Love himself shall ripen these 200

92 In a kind soil to just increase Through years of fertilizing peace.

Of the same lump (as it is said) For honour and dishonour made, Two sister vessels. Here is one. 205

It makes a goblin of the sun.

So pure, - so fall'n! How dare to think Of the first common kindred link? Yet, Jenny, till the world shall burn It seems that all things take their turn; 210 And who shall say but this fair tree May need, in changes that may be, Your children's children's charity? Scorned then, no doubt, as you are scorn'd! Shall no man hold his pride forewarn'd 215 Till in the end, the Day of Days, At Judgement, one of his own race, As frail and lost as you, shall rise, – His daughter, with his mother's eyes?

How Jenny's clock ticks on the shelf! 220 Might not the dial scorn itself That has such hours to register? Yet as to me, even so to her Are golden sun and silver moon, In daily largesse of earth's boon, 225 Counted for life-coins to one tune. And if, as blindfold fates are toss'd, Through some one man this life be lost, Shall soul not somehow pay for soul? Fair shines the gilded aureole 230 In which our highest painters place Some living woman's simple face. And the stilled features thus descried As Jenny's long throat droops aside, – The shadows where the cheeks are thin, 235 And pure wide curve from ear to chin, – With Raffael's or Da Vinci's hand To show them to men's souls, might stand, Whole ages long, the whole world through, For preachings of what God can do. 240 What has man done here? How atone, Great God, for this which man has done? And for the body and soul which by Man's pitiless doom must now comply With lifelong hell, what lullaby 245 Of sweet forgetful second birth

93 Remains? All dark. No sign on earth What measure of God's rest endows The many mansions of his house.

If but a woman's heart might see 250 Such erring heart unerringly For once! But that can never be.

Like a rose shut in a book In which pure women may not look, For its base pages claim control 255 To crush the flower within the soul; where through each dead rose-leaf that clings, Pale as transparent psyche-wings, To the vile text, are traced such things As might make lady's check indeed 260 More than a living rose to read; So nought save foolish foulness may Watch with hard eyes the sure decay; And so the life-blood of this rose, Puddled with shameful knowledge, flows 265 Through leaves no chaste hand may unclose: Yet still it keeps such faded show Of when 'twas gathered long ago, That the crushed petals' lovely grain, The sweetness of the sanguine stain, 270 Seen of a woman's eyes, must make Her pitiful heart, so prone to ache, Love roses better for its sake: – Only that this can never be: – Even so unto her sex is she. 275

Yet, Jenny, looking long at you, The woman almost fades from view. A cipher of man's changeless sum Of lust, past, present, and to come, Is left. A riddle that one shrinks 280 To challenge from the scornful sphinx.

Like a toad within a stone Seated while Time crumbles on; Which sits there since the earth was curs'd For Man's transgression at the first; 285 Which, living through all centuries, Not once has seen the sun arise; Whose life, to its cold circle charmed, The earth's whole summers have not warmed; Which always - whitherso the stone 290 Be flung - sits there, deaf, blind, alone; – Aye, and shall not be driven out

94 Till that which shuts him round about Break at the very Master's stroke, And the dust thereof vanish as smoke, 295 And the seed of Man vanish as dust: – Even so within this world is Lust.

Come, come, what use in thoughts like this? Poor little Jenny, good to kiss, – You'd not believe by what strange roads 300 Thought travels, when your beauty goads A man to-night to think of toads! Jenny, wake up.... Why, there's the dawn!

And there's an early waggon drawn To market, and some sheep that jog 305 Bleating before a barking dog; And the old streets come peering through Another night that London knew; And all as ghostlike as the lamps.

So on the wings of day decamps 310 My last night's frolic. Glooms begin To shiver off as lights creep in Past the gauze curtains half drawn-to, And the lamp's doubled shade grows blue, – Your lamp, my Jenny, kept alight, 315 Like a wise virgin's, all one night! And in the alcove coolly spread Glimmers with dawn your empty bed; And yonder your fair face I see Reflected lying on my knee, 320 Where teems with first foreshadowings Your pier-glass scrawled with diamond rings.

And now without, as if some word Had called upon them that they heard, The London sparrows far and nigh 325 Clamour together suddenly; And Jenny's cage-bird grown awake Here in their song his part must take, Because here too the day doth break.

And somehow in myself the dawn 330 Among stirred clouds and veils withdrawn Strikes greyly on her. Let her sleep. But will it wake her if I heap These cushions thus beneath her head Where my knee was? No, - there's your bed, 335 My Jenny, while you dream. And there I lay among your golden hair

95 Perhaps the subject of your dreams, These golden coins. For still one deems That Jenny's flattering sleep confers 340 New magic on the magic purse, – Grim web, how clogged with shrivelled flies! Between the threads fine fumes arise And shape their pictures in the brain. There roll no streets in glare and rain, 345 Nor flagrant man-swine whets his tusk; But delicately sighs in musk The homage of the dim boudoir; Or like a palpitating star Thrilled into song, the opera-night 350 Breathes faint in the quick pulse of light; Or at the carriage-window shine Rich wares for choice; or, free to dine, Whirls through its hour of health (divine For her) the concourse of the Park. 355 And though in the discounted dark Her functions there and here are one, Beneath the lamps and in the sun There reigns at least the acknowledged belle Apparelled beyond parallel. 360 Ah Jenny, yes, we know your dreams.

For even the Paphian Venus seems A goddess o'er the realms of love, When silver-shrined in shadowy grove: Aye, or let offerings nicely placed 365 But hide Priapus to the waist, And whoso looks on him shall see An eligible deity.

Why, Jenny, waking here alone May help you to remember one, 370 Though all the memory's long outworn Of many a double-pillowed morn. I think I see you when you wake, And rub your eyes for me, and shake My gold, in rising, from your hair, 375 A Danaë for a moment there.

Jenny, my love rang true! for still Love at first sight is vague, until That tinkling makes him audible.

And must I mock you to the last, 380 Ashamed of my own shame, - aghast Because some thoughts not born amiss

96 Rose at a poor fair face like this? Well, of such thoughts so much I know: In my life, as in hers, they show, 385 By a far gleam which I may near, A dark path I can strive to clear.

Only one kiss. Good-bye, my dear.

Rose Mary

Of her two fights with the Beryl-stone: Lost the first, but the second won.

PART I

'Mary mine that art Mary's Rose Come into me from the garden-close. The sun sinks fast with the rising dew, And we marked not how the faint moon grew; But the hidden stars are calling you. 5

'Tall Rose Mary, come to my side, And read the stars if you'd be a bride In hours whose need was not your own, While you were a young maid yet ungrown, You've read the stars in the Beryl-stone. 10

'Daughter, once more I bid you read; But now let it be for your own need: Because to-morrow, at break of day, To Holy Cross he rides on his way, Your knight Sir James of Heronhaye. 15

'Ere he wed you, flower of mine, For a heavy shrift he seeks the shrine. Now hark to my words and do not fear; Ill news next I have for your ear; But be you strong, and our help is here. 20

'On his road, as the rumour's rife, An ambush waits to take his life. He needs will go, and will go alone; Where the peril lurks may not be known; But in this glass all things are shown.' 25

Pale Rose Mary sank to the floor:-

97 'The night will come if the day is o'er!' 'Nay, heaven takes counsel, star with star, And help shall reach your heart from afar: A bride you'll be, as a maid you are.' 30

The lady unbound her jewelled zone And drew from her robe the Beryl-stone. Shaped it was to a shadowy sphere, – World of our world. the sun's compeer, That bears and buries the toiling year. 35

With shuddering light 'twas stirred and strewn Like the cloud-nest of the wading moon: Freaked it was as the bubble's ball, Rainbow-hued through a misty pall Like the middle light of the waterfall. 40

Shadows dwelt in its teeming girth Of the known and unknown things of earth; The cloud above and the wave around, – The central fire at the sphere's heart bound, Like doomsday prisoned underground. 45

A thousand years it lay in the sea With a treasure wrecked from Thessaly; Deep it lay 'mid the coiled sea-wrack, But the ocean-spirits found the track: A soul was lost to win it back. 50

The lady upheld the wondrous thing: – 'Ill fare' (she said) 'with a fiend's-fairing: But Moslem blood poured forth like wine Can hallow Hell, 'neath the Sacred Sign; And my lord brought this from Palestine. 55

'Spirits who fear the Blessed Rood Drove forth the accursed multitude That heathen worship housed herein, – Never again such home to win, Save only by a Christian's sin. 60 'All last night at an altar fair I burnt strange fires and strove with prayer; Till the flame paled to the red sunrise, All rites I then did solemnize; And the spell lacks nothing but your eyes.' 65 Low spake maiden Rose Mary: – 'O mother mine, if I should not see!' 'Nay, daughter, cover your face no more, But bend love's heart to the hidden lore,

98 And you shall see now as heretofore.' 70 Paler yet were the pale cheeks grown As the grey eyes sought the Beryl-stone: Then over her mother's lap leaned she, And stretched her thrilled throat passionately, And sighed from her soul, and said, 'I see.' 75

Even as she spoke, they two were 'ware Of music-notes that fell through the air; A chiming shower of strange device, Drop echoing drop, once twice and thrice, As rain may fall in Paradise. 80

An instant come, in an instant gone, No time there was to think thereon. The mother held the sphere on her knee: – 'Lean this way and speak low to me, And take no note but of what you see.' 85

'I see a man with a besom grey That sweeps the flying dust away.' 'Ay, that comes first in the mystic sphere; But now that the way is swept and clear, Heed well what next you look on there.' 90

'Stretched aloft and adown I see Two roads that part in waste-country: The glen lies deep and the ridge stands tall; What's great below is above seen small, And the "hill-side is the valley-wall.' 95

'Stream-bank, daughter, or moor and moss, Both roads will take to Holy Cross. The hills are a weary waste to wage; But what of the valley-road's presage? That way must tend his pilgrimage.' 100

'As 'twere the turning leaves of a book, The road runs past me as I look; Or it is even as though mine eye Should watch calm waters filled with sky While lights and clouds and wings went by.' 105

'In every covert seek a spear; They'll scarce lie close till he draws near.' 'The stream has spread to a river now; The stiff blue sedge is deep in the slough, But the hanks are bare of shrub or bough.' 110

'Is there any roof that near at hand

99 Might shelter yield to a hidden band?' 'On the further bank I see but one, And a herdsman now in the sinking sun Unyokes his team at the threshold-stone.' 115

'Keep heedful watch by the water's edge, Some boat might lurk 'neath the shadowed sedge.' 'One slid but now 'twixt the winding shores, But a peasant woman bent to the oars And only a young child steered its course. 120

'Mother, something flashed to my sight! – Nay, it is hut the lapwing's flight. – What glints there like a lance that flees? – Nay, the flags are stirred in the breeze, And the water's bright through the dart-rushes. 125

'Ah! vainly I search from side to side: – Woe's me! and where do the foemen hide? Woe's me! and perchance I pass them by' And under the new dawn's blood-red sky Even where I gaze the dead shall lie.' 130

Said the mother: 'For dear love's sake, Speak more low, lest the spell should break.' Said the daughter: 'By love's control, My eyes, my words, are strained to the goal; But oh! the voice that cries in my soul!' 135

'Hush, sweet, hush! be calm and behold.' 'I see two floodgates broken and old: The grasses wave o'er the ruined weir, But the bridge still leads to the breakwater: 140 And - mother, mother, O mother dear!'

The damsel clung to her mother's knee, And dared not let the shriek go free; Low she crouched by the lady's chair, And shrank blindfold in her fallen hair, And whispering said, 'The spears are there!' 145

The lady stooped aghast from her place, And cleared the locks from her daughter's face. 'More's to see, and she swoons, alas! Look, look again, ere the moment pass! One shadow comes but once to the glass. 150

'See you there what you saw but now?' 'I see eight men 'neath the willow bough. All over the weir a wild growth's spread:

100 Ah me! it will hide a living head As well as the water hides the dead. 155

'They lie by the broken water-gate As men who have a while to wait. The chief's high lance has a blazoned scroll, He seems some lord of tithe and toll With seven squires to his bannerole. 160

'The little pennon quakes in the air, I cannot trace the blazon there: – Ah! now I can see the field of blue, The spurs and the merlins two and two; – It is the Warden of Holycleugh!' 165

'God he thanked for the thing we know! You have named your good knight's mortal foe. Last Shrovetide in the tourney-game He sought his life by treasonous shame; And this way now doth he seek the same. 170

'So, fair lord, such a thing you are! But we too watch till the morning star. Well, June is kind and the moon is clear: Saint Judas send you a merry cheer For the night you lie at Warisweir! 175

'Now, sweet daughter, but one more sight, And you may lie soft and sleep to-night. We know in the vale what perils be: Now look once more in the glass, and see If over the hills the road lies free.' 180

Rose Mary pressed to her mother's cheek, And almost smiled hut did not speak, Then turned again to the saving spell, With eyes to search and with lips to tell The heart of things invisible. 185

'Again the shape with the besom grey Comes back to sweep the clouds away. Again I stand where the roads divide; But now all's near on the steep hillside, And a thread far down is the rivertide.' 190

'Ay, child, your road is o'er moor and moss, Past Holycleugh to Holy Cross. Our hunters lurk in the valley's wake, As they knew which way the chase would take:

101 Yet search the hills for your true love's sake.' 195

'Swift and swifter the waste runs by, And nought I see but the heath and the sky; No brake is there that could hide a spear, And the gaps to a horseman's sight lie clear; Still past it goes, and there's nought to fear.' 200

'Fear no trap that you cannot see, – They'd not lurk yet too warily. Below by the weir they lie in sight, And take no heed how they pass the night Till close they crouch with the morning light.' 205

'The road shifts ever and brings in view Now first the heights of Holycleugh: Dark they stand o'er the vale below, And hide that heaven which yet shall show The thing their master's heart doth know. 210

'Where the road looks to the castle steep, There are seven hill-clefts wide and deep: Six mine eyes can search as they list, But the seventh hollow is brimmed with mist: If aught were there, it might not be wist.' 215

'Small hope, my girl, for a helm to hide In mists that cling to a wild moorside: Soon they melt with the wind and sun, And scarce would wait such deeds to be done: God send their snares be the worst to shun.' 220

'Still the road winds ever anew As it hastens on towards Holycleugh; And ever the great walls loom more near, Till the castle-shadow, steep and sheer, Drifts like a cloud, and the sky is clear.' 225

'Enough, my daughter,' the mother said, And took to her breast the bending head; 'Rest, poor head, with my heart below, While love still lulls you as long ago: For all is learnt that we need to know. 230

'Long the miles and many the hours From the castle-height to the abbey-towers; But here the journey has no more dread; Too thick with life is the whole road spread For murder's trembling foot to tread.' 235

102 She gazed on the Beryl-stone full fain Ere she wrapped it close in her robe again: The flickering shades were dusk and dun, And the lights throbbed faint in unison, Like a high heart when a race is run. 240

As the globe slid to its silken gloom, Once more a music rained through the room; Low it splashed like a sweet star-spray, And sobbed like tears at the heart of May, And died as laughter dies away. 245

The lady held her breath for a space, And then she looked in her daughter's face: But wan Rose Mary had never heard; Deep asleep like a sheltered bird She lay with the long spell minister'd. 250

'Ah! and yet I must leave you, dear, For what you have seen your knight must hear. Within four days, by the help of God He comes back safe to his heart's abode: Be sure he shall shun the valley-road.' 255

Rose Mary sank with a broken moan, And lay in the chair and slept alone, Weary, lifeless, heavy as lead: Long it was ere she raised her head And rose up all discomforted. 260

She searched her brain for a vanished thing, And clasped her brows, remembering; Then knelt and lifted her eyes in awe, And sighed with a long sigh sweet to draw: – 'Thank God, thank God, thank God I saw!' 265

The lady had left her as she lay To seek the Knight of Heronhaye. But first she clomb by a secret stair, And knelt at a carven altar fair, And laid the precious Beryl there. 270

Its girth was graved with a mystic rune In a tongue long dead 'neath sun and moon: A priest of the Holy Sepulchre Read that writing and did not err; And her lord had told its sense to her. 275

She breathed the words in an undertone: -

103 'None sees here but the pure alone.' 'And oh!' she said, 'what. rose may be In Mary's bower more pure to see Than my own sweet maiden Rose Mary?' 280

BERYL-SONG

We whose home is the Beryl, Fire-spirit of dread desire, Who entered in By a secret sin, 'Gainst whom all powers that strive with ours are sterile, - 285 We cry, Woe to thee, mother! What hast thou taught her, the girl thy daughter, That she and none other Should this dark morrow to her deadly sorrow imperil? What were her eyes 290 But the fiend's own spies, O mother, And shall We not fee her, our proper prophet and seër? Go to her, mother, Even thou, yea thou and none other, 295 Thou, from the Beryl.- Her fee must thou take her, Her fee that We send, and make her, Even in this hour, her sin's unsheltered avower. Whose steed did neigh, 300 Riderless, bridleless, At her gate before it was day? Lo! where doth hover The soul of her lover? She sealed his doom, she, she was the sworn approver, - 305 Whose eyes were so wondrous wise Yet blind, ah! blind to his peril! For stole not We in Through a love-linked sin, 'Gainst whom all powers at war with ours are sterile, - 310 Fire-spirits of dread desire, We whose home is the Beryl?

104 PART II

'Pale Rose Mary, what shall be done With a rose that Mary weeps upon,' 'Mother, let it fall from the tree, 315 And never walk where the strewn leaves be Till winds have passed and the path is free.'

'Sad Rose Mary, what shall be done With a cankered flower beneath the sun?' 'Mother, let it wait for the night; 320 Be sure its shame shall be out of sight Ere the moon pale or the east grow light.'

'Lost Rose Mary, what shall be done With a heart that is but a broken one?' 'Mother, let it lie where it must; 325 The blood was drained with the bitter thrust, And dust is all that sinks in the dust.'

'Poor Rose Mary, what shall I do,'- I, your mother, that lovèd you?' 'O my mother, and is love gone? 330 Then seek you another love anon: Who cares what shame shall lean upon?'

Low drooped trembling Rose Mary, Then up as though in a dream stood she. 'Come, my heart, it is time to go; 335 This is the hour that has whispered low When thy pulse quailed in the nights we know.

'Yet O my heart, thy shame has a mate Who will not leave thee desolate. Shame for shame, yea and sin for sin: 340 Yet peace at length may our poor souls win If love for love be found therein.

'O thou who seek'st our shrift to-day,' She cried, 'O James of Heronhaye- Thy sin and mine was for love alone; 345 And oh! in the sight of God 'tis known How the heart has since made heavy moan.

'Three days yet!' she said to her heart; 'But then he comes, and we will not part. God, God he thanked that I still could see! 350 Oh! he shall come back assuredly, But where, alas! must he seek for me?

105 'O my heart. what road shall we roam Till my wedding-music fetch me home? For love's shut from us and bides afar, 355 And scorn leans over the bitter bar And knows us now for the thing we are,

Tall she stood with a cheek flushed high And a gaze to burn the heart-strings by. 'Twas the lightning-flash o'er sky and plain 360 Ere labouring thunders heave the chain From the floodgates of the drowning rain.

The mother looked on the daughter still As on a hurt thing that's yet to kill. Then wildly at length the pent tears came; 365 The love swelled high with the swollen shame, And their hearts' tempest burst on them.

Closely locked, they clung without speech, And the mirrored souls shook each to each, As the cloud-moon and the water-moon 370 Shake face to face when the dim stars swoon In stormy bowers of the night's mid-noon.

They swayed together, shuddering sore, Till the mother's heart could bear no more. 'Twas death to feel her own breast shake 375 Even to the very throb and ache Of the burdened heart she still must break.

All her sobs ceased suddenly, And she sat straight up but scarce could see. 'O daughter, where should my speech begin? 380 Your heart held fast its secret sin: How think you, child, that I read therein?'

'Ah me! but I thought not how it came When your words showed that you knew my shame: And now that you call me still your own, 385 I half forget you have ever known, Did you read my heart in the Beryl-stone?'

The lady answered her mournfully: – 'The Beryl-stone has no voice for me: But when you charged its power to show 390 The truth which none but the pure may know, Did naught speak once of a coming woe?'

Her hand was close to her daughter's heart,

106 And it felt the life-blood's sudden start: A quick deep breath did the damsel draw 395 Like the struck fawn in the oakenshaw: 'O mother,' she cried, 'but still I saw!'

'O child, my child, why held you apart From my great love your hidden heart? Said I not that all sin must chase 400 From the spell's sphere the spirits of grace, And yield their rule to the evil race?

'Ah! would to God I had clearly told How strong those powers, accurst of old: Their heart is the ruined house of lies; 405 O girl, they can seal the sinful eyes, Or show the truth by contraries!'

The daughter sat as cold as a stone, And spoke no word but gazed alone, Nor moved, though her mother strove a space 410 To clasp her round in a close embrace, Because she dared not see her face.

'Oh!' at last did the mother cry, 'Be sure, as he loved you, so will I! Ah! still and dumb is the bride, I trow; 415 But cold and stark as the winter snow Is the bridegroom's heart, laid dead below!

'Daughter, daughter, remember you That cloud in the hills by Holycleugh? 'Twas a Hell-screen, hiding truth away: 420 There, not i' the vale, the ambush lay, And thence was the dead borne home to-day.'

Deep the flood and heavy the shock When sea meets sea in the riven rock: But calm is the pulse that shakes the sea 425 To the prisoned tide of doom set free In the breaking heart of Rose Mary.

Once she sprang as the heifer springs With the wolf's teeth at its red heart-strings. First 'twas fire in her breast and brain. 430 And then scarce hers but the whole world's pain, As she gave one shriek and sank again.

In the hair dark-waved the face lay white As the moon lies in the lap of night;

107 And as night through which no moon may dart 435 Lies on a pool in the woods apart, So lay the swoon on the weary heart.

The lady felt for the bosom's stir, And wildly kissed and called on her; Then turned away with a quick footfall, 440 And slid the secret door in the wall And clomb the strait stair's interval.

There above in the altar-cell A little fountain rose and fell: She set a flask to the water's flow, 445 And, backward hurrying, sprinkled now The still cold breast and the pallid brow.

Scarce cheek that warmed or breath on the air, Yet something told that life was there. 'Ah! not with the heart the body dies!' 450 The lady moaned in a bitter wise; Then wrung her hands and hid her eyes.

'Alas! and how may I meet again In the same poor eyes the selfsame pain? What help can I seek, such grief to guide? 455 Ah! one alone might avail,' she cried. - 'The priest who prays at the dead man's side.'

The lady arose, and sped down all The winding stairs to the castle-hall. Long-known valley and wood and stream, 460 As the loopholes passed, naught else did seem Than the torn threads of a broken dream.

The hall was full of the castle-folk; The women wept, but the men scarce spoke. As the lady crossed the rush-strewn floor, 465 The throng fell backward, murmuring sore, And pressed outside round the open door

A stranger shadow hung on the hall Than the dark pomp of a funeral. 'Mid common sights that were there alway, 470 As 'twere a chance of the passing day, On the ingle-bench the dead man lay.

A priest who passed by Holycleugh The tidings brought when the day was new. He guided them who had fetched the dead; 475 And since that hour, unwearièd,

108 He knelt in prayer at the low bier's head.

Word had gone to his own domain That in evil wise the knight was slain: Soon the spears must gather apace 480 And the hunt be hard on the hunters' trace; But all things yet lay still for a space.

As the lady's hurried step drew near, The kneeling priest looked up to her. 'Father, death is a grievous thing; 485 But oh! the woe has a sharper sting That craves by me your ministering.

'Alas for the child that should have wed This noble knight here lying dead! Dead in hope, with all blessed boon 490 Of love thus rent from her heart ere noon, I left her laid in a heavy swoon

'O haste to the open bower-chamber That's topmost as you mount the stair: Seek her, father, ere yet she wake; 495 Your words, not mine, be the first to slake This poor heart's fire, for Christ's sweet sake!

'God speed!' she said as the priest passed through, 'And I ere long will be with you.' Then low on the hearth her knee sank prone; 500 She signed all folk from the threshold-stone, And gazed in the dead man's face alone.

The fight for life found record yet In the clenched lips and the teeth hard-set; The wrath from the bent brow was not gone, 505 And stark in the eyes the hate still shone Of that they last had looked upon.

The blazoned coat was rent on his breast Where the golden field was goodliest; But the shivered sword, close-gripped, could tell 510 That the blood shed round him where he fell Was not all this in the distant dell.

The lady recked of the corpse no whit, But saw the soul and spoke to it: A light there was in her steadfast eyes, - 515 The fire of mortal tears and sighs That pity and love immortalize.

109 'By thy death have I learnt to-day Thy deed, O James of Heronhaye! Great wrong thou hast done to me and mine; 520 And haply God hath wrought for a sign By our blind deed this doom of thine.

'Thy shrift, alas! thou wast not to win; But may death shrive thy soul herein! Full well do I know thy love should be 525 Even yet - had life but stayed with thee – Our honour's strong security.'

She stooped, and said with a sob's low stir, - 'Peace be thine, - but what peace for her?' But ere to the brow her lips were press'd, 530 She marked, half-hid in the riven vest, A packet close to the dead man's breast.

'Neath surcoat pierced and broken mail It lay on the blood-stained bosom pale. The clot clung round it, dull and dense, 535 And a faintness seized her mortal sense As she reached her hand and drew it thence.

'Twas steeped in the heart's flood welling high From the heart it there had rested by: 'Twas glued to a broidered fragment gay, - 540 A shred by spear-thrust rent away From the heron-wings of Heronhaye.

She gazed on the thing with piteous eyne: - 'Alas, poor child, some pledge of thine! Ah me! in this troth the hearts were twain, 545 And one hath ebbed to this crimson stain, And when shall the other throb again?'

She opened the packet heedfully; The blood was stiff, and it scarce might be. She found but a folded paper there, 550 And round it, twined with tenderest care, A long bright tress of golden hair.

Even as she looked, she saw again That dark-haired face in its swoon of pain: It seemed a snake with a golden sheath 555 Crept near, as a slow flame flickereth, And stung her daughter's heart to death.

She loosed the tress, but her hand did shake As though indeed she had touched a snake;

110 And next she undid the paper's fold, 560 But that too trembled in her hold, And the sense scarce grasped the tale it told.

'My heart's sweet lord,' ('twas thus she read,) 'At length our love is garlanded. At Holy Cross, within eight days' space, 565 1 seek my shrift; and the time and place Shall fit thee too for thy soul's good grace.

'From Holycleugh on the seventh day My brother rides, and bides away: And long or e'er he is back, mine own, 570 Afar where the face of fear's unknown We shall be safe with our love alone.

'Ere yet at the shrine my knees I bow, I shear one tress for our holy vow. As round these words these threads I wind, 575 So, eight days hence, shall our loves be twined Says my lord's poor lady, JOCELIND.'

She read it twice, with a brain in thrall, And then its echo told her all. O'er brows low-fall'n her hands she drew: - 580 'O God!' she said, as her hands fell too, - 'The Warden's sister of Holycleugh!'

She rose upright with a long low moan And stared in the dead man's face new-known. Had it lived indeed? She scarce could tell: 585 'Twas a cloud where fiends had come to dwell A mask that hung on the gate of Hell.

She lifted the lock of gleaming hair And smote the lips and left it there. 'Here's gold that Hell shall take for thy toll! 590 Full well hath thy treason found its goal, O thou dead body and damnèd soul!'

She turned, sore dazed, for a voice was near, And she knew that some one called to her. On many a column fair and tall 595 A high court ran round the castle-hall; And thence it was that the priest did call

'I sought your child where you bade me go, And in rooms around and rooms below; But where, alas! may the maiden be? 600 Fear nought, - we shall find her speedily, -

111 But come, come hither, and seek with me.'

She reached the stair like a lifelorn thing. But hastened upward murmuring: - 'Yea, Death's is a face that's fell to see; 605 But bitterer pang Life hoards for thee, Thou broken heart of Rose Mary!'

BERYL-SONG

We whose throne is the Beryl, Dire-gifted spirits of fire, Who for a twin 610 Leash Sorrow to Sin, Who on no flower refrain to lour with peril, - We cry, - O desolate daughter! Thou and thy mother share newer shame with each other Than last night's slaughter. 615 Awake and tremble, for our curses assemble! What more, that thou knowst not yet, - That life nor death shall forget? No help from Heaven, - thy woes heart--riven are sterile! O once a maiden, 620 With yet worse sorrow can any morrow be laden? It waits for thee, It looms, it must be, O lost among women, - It comes and thou canst not flee. 625 Amen to the omen, Says the voice of the Beryl. Thou sleep'st? Awake, - What dar'st thou yet for his sake, Who each for other did God's own Future imperil? 630 Dost dare to live 'Mid the pangs each hour must give? Nay, rather die, - With him thy lover 'neath Hell's cloud-cover to fly, - Hopeless, yet not apart, 635 Cling heart to heart, And beat through the nether storm-eddying winds together? Shall this be so? There thou shalt meet him, but mayst thou greet him? ah no ! 640 He loves, but thee he hoped nevermore to see, - He sighed as he died, But with never a thought for thee. Alone ! Alone, for ever alone, - 645 Whose eyes were such wondrous spies for the fate foreshown! Lo! have not We leashed the twin Of endless Sorrow to Sin, -

112 Who on no flower refrain to lour with peril, - Dire-gifted spirits of fire, 650 We whose throne is the Beryl?

PART III

A swoon that breaks is the whelming wave When help comes late hut still can save. With all blind throes is the instant rife, - Hurtling clangour and clouds at strife, - 655 The breath of death, hut the kiss of life.

The night lay deep on Rose Mary's heart, For her swoon was death's kind counterpart: The dawn broke dim on Rose Mary's soul, - No hill-crown's heavenly aureole, 660 But a wild gleam on a shaken shoal.

Her senses gasped in the sudden air, And she looked around, hut none was there. He felt the slackening frost distil Through her blood the last ooze dull and chill: 665 Her lids were dry and her lips were still.

Her tears had flooded her heart again; As after a long day's bitter rain, At dusk when the wet flower-cups shrink, from the drops run in from the beaded brink 670 And all the close-shut petals drink.

Again her sighs on her heart were rolled; As the wind that long has swept the wold, - Whose moan was made with the moaning sea, - Beats out its breath in the last torn tree, 675 And sinks at length in lethargy.

She knew she had waded bosom-deep Along death's bank in the sedge of sleep: All else was lost to her clouded mind; Nor, looking back, could she see defin'd 680 O'er the dim dumb waste what lay behind.

Slowly fades the sun from the wall Till day lies dead on the sun-dial: And now in Rose Mary's lifted eye 'Twas shadow alone that made reply 685 To the set face of the soul's dark sky.

Yet still through her soul there wandered past Dread phantoms borne on a wailing blast, - Death and sorrow and sin and shame;

113 And, murmured still, to her lips there came 690 Her mother's and her lover's name.

How to ask, and what thing to know? She might not stay and she dared not go. From fires unseen these smoke-clouds curled; But where did the hidden curse lie furled? 695 And how to seek through the weary world?

With toiling breath she rose from the floor And dragged her steps to an open door: 'Twas the secret panel standing wide, As the lady's hand had led it bide 700 In hastening back to her daughter's side.

She passed, but reeled with a dizzy brain And smote the door which closed again. She stood within by the darkling stair, But her feet might mount more freely there, - 705 'Twas the open light most blinded her.

Within her mind no wonder grew At the secret path she never knew: All ways alike were strange to her now, - One field bare-ridged from the spirit's plough, 710 One thicket black with the cypress-bough.

Once she thought that she heard her name; And she paused, but knew not whence it came. Down the shadowed stair a faint ray fell That guided the weary footsteps well 715 Till it led her up to the altar-cell

No change there was on Rose Mary's face As she leaned in the portal's narrow space: Still she stood by the pillar's stem, Hand and bosom and garment's hem, 720 As the soul stands by at the requiem.

The altar-cell was a dome low-lit, And a veil hung in the midst of it: At the pole-points of its circling girth Four symbols stood of the world's first birth, - 725 Air and water and fire and earth.

To the north, a fountain glittered free; To the south, there glowed a red fruit-tree; To the cast, a lamp flamed high and fair; To the west, a crystal casket rare 730 Held fast a cloud of the fields of air.

114

The painted walls were a mystic show Of time's ebb-tide and overflow; His hoards long-locked and conquering key, His service-fires that in heaven be, 735 And earth-wheels whirled perpetually.

Rose Mary gazed from the open door As on idle things she cared not for, - The fleeting shapes of an empty tale; Then stepped with a heedless visage pale, 740 And lifted aside the altar-veil.

The altar stood from its curved recess In a coiling serpent's life-likeness: Even such a serpent evermore Lies deep asleep at the world's dark core 745 Till the last Voice shake the sea and shore.

From the altar-cloth a book rose spread And tapers burned at the altar-head; And there in the altar-midst alone, 'Twixt wings of a sculptured beast unknown, 750 Rose Mary saw the Beryl-stone.

Firm it sat 'twixt the hollowed wings, As an orb sits in the hand of kings: And lo! for that Foe whose curse far-flown Had bound her life with a burning zone, 755 Rose Mary knew the Beryl-stone.

Dread is the meteor's blazing sphere When the poles throb to its blind career; But not with a light more grim and ghast Thereby is the future doom forecast, 760 Than now this sight brought back the past.

The hours and minutes seemed to whirr In a clanging swarm that deafened her; They stung her heart to a writhing flame, And marshalled past in its glare they came, - 765 Death and sorrow and sin and shame.

Round the Beryl's sphere she saw them pass And mock her eyes from the fated glass: One by one in a fiery train The dead hours seemed to wax and wane, 770 And burned till all was known again.

From the drained heart's fount there rose no cry,

115 There sprang no tears, for the source was dry. Held in the hand of some heavy law, Her eyes she might not once withdraw, 775 Nor shrink away from the thing she saw.

Even as she gazed, through all her blood The flame was quenched in a coming flood: Out of the depth of the hollow gloom On her soul's bare sands she felt it boom, – 780 The measured tide of a sea of doom.

Three steps she took through the altar-gate, And her neck reared and her arms grew straight: The sinews clenched like a serpent's throe, And the face was white in the dark hair's flow, 785 As her hate beheld what lay below.

Dumb she stood in her malisons, – A silver statue tressed with bronze: As the fabled head by Perseus mown, It seemed in sooth that her gaze alone 790 Had turned the carven shapes to stone.

O'er the altar-sides on either hand There hung a dinted helm and brand: By strength thereof, 'neath the Sacred Sign, That bitter gift o'er the salt sea-brine 795 Her father brought from Palestine.

Rose Mary moved with a stern accord And reached her hand to her father's sword; Nor did she stir her gaze one whit From the thing whereon her brows were knit; 800 But gazing still, she spoke to it.

'O ye, three times accurst,' she said, 'By whom this stone is tenanted! Lo! there ye came by a strong sin's might; Yet a sinner's hand that's weak to smite 805 Shall send you hence ere the day be night.

'This hour a clear voice bade me know My hand shall work your overthrow: Another thing in mine ear it spake, – With the broken spell my life shall break. 810 I thank Thee, God, for the dear death's sake!

'And he Thy heavenly minister Who swayed erewhile this spell-bound sphere, –

116 My parting soul let him haste to greet, And none but he be guide for my feet 815 To where Thy rest is made complete.'

Then deep she breathed, with a tender moan: – 'My love, my lord, my only one! Even as I held the cursed clue, When thou, through me, these foul ones slew, – 820 By mine own deed shall they slay me too!

'Even while they speed to Hell, my love, Two hearts shall meet in Heaven above. Our shrift thou sought'st, but might'st not bring: And oh! for me 'tis a blessed thing 825 To work hereby our ransoming.

'One were our hearts in joy and pain, And our souls e'en now grow one again. And O my love, if our souls are three, O thine and mine shall the third soul be, – 830 One threefold love eternally.'

Her eyes were soft as she spoke apart, And the lips smiled to the broken heart: But the glance was dark and the forehead scored With the bitter frown of hate restored, 835 As her two hands swung the heavy sword.

Three steps back from her Foe she trod: – 'Love, for thy sake! In Thy Name, O God!' In the fair white hands small strength was shown; Yet the blade flashed high and the edge fell prone, 840 And she cleft the heart of the Beryl-stone.

What living flesh in the thunder-cloud Hath sat and felt heaven cry aloud? Or known how the levin's pulse may beat? Or wrapped the hour when the whirlwinds meet 845 About its breast for a winding-sheet?

Who hath crouched at the world's deep heart While the earthquake rends its loins apart? Or walked far under the seething main While overhead the heavens ordain 850 The tempest-towers of the hurricane?

Who hath seen or what ear hath heard The secret things unregister'd Of the place where all is past and done, And tears and laughter sound as one 855

117 In Hell's unhallowed unison?

Nay, is it writ how the fiends despair In earth and water and fire and air? Even so no mortal tongue may tell How to the clang of the sword that fell 860 The echoes shook the altar-cell.

When all was still on the air again The Beryl-stone lay cleft in twain; The veil was rent from the riven dome; And every wind that's winged to roam 865 Might have the ruined place for home.

The fountain no more glittered free; The fruit hung dead on the leafless tree; The flame of the lamp had ceased to flare; And the crystal casket shattered there 870 Was emptied now of its cloud of air.

And lo! on the ground Rose Mary lay, With a cold brow like the snows ere May, With a cold breast like the earth till Spring, With such a smile as the June days bring 875 When the year grows warm for harvesting.

The death she had won might leave no trace On the soft sweet form and gentle face: In a gracious sleep she seemed to lie; And over her head her hand on high 880 Held fast the sword she triumphed by.

'Twas then a clear voice said in the room: – 'Behold the end of the heavy doom. O come, - for thy bitter love's sake blest; By a sweet path now thou journeyest, 885 And I will lead thee to thy rest.

'Me thy sin by Heaven's sore ban Did chase erewhile from the talisman: But to my heart, as a conquered home, In glory of strength thy footsteps come 890 Who hast thus cast forth my foes therefrom.

'Already thy heart remembereth No more his name thou sought'st in death: For under all deeps, all heights above, – So wide the gulf in the midst thereof, – 895 Are Hell of Treason and Heaven of Love.

118

'Thee' true soul shall thy truth prefer To blessed Mary's rose-bower: Warmed and lit is thy place afar With guerdon-fires of the sweet Love-star 900 Where hearts of steadfast lovers are: -

'Though naught for the poor corpse lying here Remain to-day but the cold white bier But burial-chaunt and bended knee, But sighs and tears that heaviest be, 905 But rent rose-flower and rosemary.'

BERYL-SONG

We, cast forth from the Beryl, Gyre-circling spirits of fire, Whose pangs begin With God's grace to sin, 910 For whose spent powers the immortal hours are sterile, - Woe! must We behold this mother Find grace in her dead child's face, and doubt of none other But that Perfect Pardon, alas! hath assured her guerdon? Woe! must We behold this daughter, 915 Made clean from the soil of sin wherewith We had fraught her, Shake off a man's blood like water? Write up her story On the Gate of Heaven's glory, Whom there We behold so fair in shining apparel, 920 And beneath her the ruin Of our own undoing! Alas, the Beryl! We had for a foeman But one weak woman; 925 In one day's strife, Her hope fell dead from her life; And yet no iron, Her soul to environ, Could this manslayer, this false soothsayer imperil! 930 Lo, where she bows In the Holy House! Who now shall dissever her soul from its joy for ever, While every ditty Of love and plentiful pity 935 Fills the White City, And the floor of Heaven to her feet for ever is given? Hark, a voice cries 'Flee!' Woe! woe! What shelter have We, Whose pangs begin 940

119 With God's grace to sin For whose spent powers the immortal hours are sterile, Gyre-circling spirits of fire, We, cast forth from the Beryl?

Body's Beauty

Of Adam's first wife, Lilith, it is told (The witch he loved before the gift of Eve,) That, ere the snake's, her sweet tongue could deceive, And her enchanted hair was the first gold. And still she sits, young while the earth is old, 5 And, subtly of herself contemplative, Draws men to watch the bright web she can weave, Till heart and body and life are in its hold.

The rose and poppy are her flowers; for where Is he not found, O Lilith, whom shed scent 10 And soft-shed kisses and soft sleep shall snare? Lo! As that youth's eyes burned at thine, so went Thy spell through him, and left his straight neck bent And round his heart one strangling golden hair.

Eden Bower

It was Lilith the wife of Adam: (Eden bower's in flower.) Not a drop of her blood was human, But she was made like a soft sweet woman.

Lilith stood on the skirts of Eden; 5 (And O the bower and the hour!) She was the first that thence was driven; With her was hell and with Eve was heaven.

In the ear of the Snake said Lilith: - (Eden bower's in flower.) 10 'To thee I come when the rest is over; A snake was I when thou wast my lover.

'I was the fairest snake in Eden: (And O the bower and the hour!)

120 By the earth's will, new form and feature 15 Made me a wife for the earth's new creature.

'Take me thou as I come from Adam: (Eden bower's in flower.) Once again shall my love subdue thee; The past is past and I am come to thee. 20

'O but Adam was thrall to Lilith! (And O the bower and the hour!) All the threads of my hair are golden, And there in a net his heart was holden.

'O and Lilith was queen of Adam!: 25 (Eden bower's in flower.) All the day and the night together My breath could shake his soul like a feather.

'What great joys had Adam and Lilith! - (And O the bower and the hour!) 30 Sweet close rings of the serpent's twining, As heart in heart lay sighing and pining.

'What bright babes had Lilith and Adam! - (Eden bower's in flower.) Shapes that coiled in the woods and waters, 35 Glittering sons and radiant daughters.

'O thou God, the Lord God of Eden! (And O the bower and the hour!) Say, was this fair body for no man, That of Adam's flesh thou mak'st him a woman? 40

'O thou Snake. the King-snake of Eden! (Eden bower's in flower.) God's strong will our necks are under, But thou and I may cleave it in sunder.

'Help, sweet Snake, sweet lover of Lilith! 45 (And O the bower and the hour!) And let God learn how I loved and hated Man in the image of God created.

'Help me once against Eve and Adam! (Eden bower's in flower.) 50 Help me once for this one endeavour, And then my love shall be thine for ever!

'Strong is God, the fell foe of Lilith: (And O the bower and the hour!)

121 Nought in heaven or earth may affright him; 55 But join thou with me and we will smite him.

'Strong is God, the great God of Eden: (Eden bower's in flower.) Over all He made He hath power; But lend me thou thy shape for an hour! 60

'Lend thy shape for the love of Lilith! (And O the bower and the hour!) Look, my mouth and my check are ruddy, And thou art cold, and fire is my body.

'Lend thy shape for the hate of Adam! 65 (Eden bower's in flower.) That he may wail my joy that forsook him, And curse the day when the bride-sleep took him.

'Lend thy shape for the shame of Eden! (And O the bower and the hour!) 70 Is not the foe-God weak as the foeman When love grows hate in the heart of a woman?

'Would'st thou know the heart's hope of Lilith? (Eden bower's in flower.) Then bring thou close thine head till it glisten 75 Along my breast, and lip me and listen.

'Am I sweet, O sweet Snake of Eden? (And O the bower and the hour!) Then ope thine ear to my warm mouth's cooing And learn what deed remains for our doing. 80

'Thou didst hear when God said to Adam: – (Eden bower's in flower.) "Of all this wealth I have made thee warden; Thou'rt free to eat of the trees of the garden:

'"Only of one tree eat not in Eden 85 (And O the bower and the hour!) All save one I give to thy freewill, – The Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil."

'O my love, come nearer to Lilith! (Eden bower's in flower.) 90 In thy sweet folds bind me and bend me, And let me feel the shape thou shalt lend me!

In thy shape I'll go back to Eden; (And O the bower and the hour!)

122 In these coils that Tree will I grapple, 95 And stretch this crowned head forth by the apple.

'Lo, Eve bends to the breath of Lilith! (Eden bower's in flower.) O how then shall my heart desire All her blood as food to its fire! 100

'Lo, Eve bends to the words of Lilith! - (And O the bower and the hour!) "Nay, this Tree's fruit, - why should ye hate it, Or Death be born the day that ye ate it?

'"Nay, but on that great day in Eden. 105 (Eden bower's in flower.) By the help that in this wise Tree is, God knows well ye shall be as He is."

'Then Eve shall eat and give unto Adam. (And O the bower and the hour!) 110 And then they both shall know they are naked, And their hearts ache as my heart hath achèd.

'Aye, let them hide in the trees of Eden, (Eden bower's in flower.) As in the cool of the day in the garden 115 God shall walk without pity or pardon.

'Hear, thou Eve, the man's heart in Adam! (And O the bower and the hour!) Of his brave words hark to the bravest: - "This the woman gave that thou gavest." 120

'Hear Eve speak, yea, list to her, Lilith! (Eden bower's in flower.) Feast thine heart with words that shall sate it - "This the serpent gave and I ate it."

'O proud Eve, cling close to thine Adam, 125 (And O the bower and the hour!) Driven forth as the beasts of his naming By the sword that for ever is flaming.

'Know, thy path is known unto Lilith! (Eden bower's in flower.) 130 While the blithe birds sang at thy wedding, There her tears grew thorns for thy treading.

'O my love, thou Love-snake of Eden!

123 (And O the bower and the hour!) O to-day and the day to come after! 135 Loose me, love, - give breath to my laughter!

'O bright Snake, the Death-worm of Adam! (Eden bower's in flower.) Wreathe thy neck with my hair's bright tether, And wear my gold and thy gold together! 140

'On that day on the skirts of Eden, (And O the bower and the hour!) In thy shape shall I glide back to thee, And in my shape for an instant view thee.

'But when thou'rt thou and Lilith is Lilith, 145 (Eden bower's in flower.) In what bliss past hearing or seeing Shall each one drink of the other's being!

With cries of "Eve!" and "Eden!" and "Adam!" (And O the bower and the hour!) 150 How shall we mingle our love's caresses, I in thy coils, and thou in my tresses!

'With those names, ye echoes of Eden, (Eden bower's in flower.) Fire shall cry from my heart that burneth, – 155 "Dust he is and to dust returneth!"

'Yet to-day, thou master of Lilith, – (And O the bower and the hour!) Wrap me round in the form I'll borrow And let me tell thee of sweet to-morrow. 160

'In the planted garden eastward in Eden, (Eden bower's in flower.) Where the river goes forth to water the garden, The springs shall dry and the soil shall harden.

'Yea, where the bride-sleep fell upon Adam, 165 (And O the bower and the hour!) None shall hear when the storm-wind whistles Through roses choked among thorns and thistles.

'Yea, beside the cast-gate of Eden, (Eden bower's in flower.) 170 Where God joined them and none might sever, The sword turns this way and that for ever.

'What of Adam cast out of Eden?

124 (And O the bower and the hour!) Lo! with care like a shadow shaken, 175 He tills the hard earth whence he was taken.

'What of Eve too, cast out of Eden? (Eden bower's in flower.) Nay, but she, the bride of God's giving, Must yet be mother of all men living. 180

'Lo, God's grace, by the grace of Lilith! (And O the bower and the hour!) To Eve's womb, from our sweet to-morrow, God shall greatly multiply sorrow.

'Fold me fast, O God-snake of Eden! 185 (Eden bower's in flower.) What more prize than love to impel thee? Grip and lip my limbs as I tell thee!

'Lo! two babes for Eve and for Adam! (And O the bower and the hour!) 190 Lo! sweet Snake, the travail and treasure, - Two men-children born for their pleasure!

'The first is Cain and the second Abel: (Eden bower's in flower.) The soul of one shall be made thy brother, 195 And thy tongue shall lap the blood of the other.' (And O the bower and the hour!)

Soul's Beauty

Under the arch of Life, where love and death Terror and mystery, guard her shrine, I saw Beauty enthroned; and though her gaze struck awe, I drew it in as simply as my breath Hers are the eyes which, over and beneath, 5 The sky and the sea bend on thee, - which can draw, By sea or sky or woman, to one law, The allotted bondman of her palm and wreath.

This is that Lady Beauty, in whose praise Thy voice and hand shake still, - long known to thee 10 By flying hair and fluttering hem, - the beat Following her daily of thy heart and feet, How passionately and irretrievably, In what fond flight, how many ways and days!

125 Paintings

Fig. 1. The Girlhood of Mary Virgin 1848 – 1849 Oil on canvas Tate Gallery London

126

Fig. 2 a. The Blessed Damozel 1875 – 1881 Oil on canvas National Museums Liverpool (Lady Lever Art Gallery, Port Sunlight)

Fig. 2 b. The Blessed Damozel 1871 – 1878 Oil on canvas The Fogg Art Museum, Harvard University Art Museums

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Fig. 3. Found Oil on canvas 1854 – 1855/ 1859 – 1881 Delaware Art Museum Samuel and Mary R. Bancroft Memorial

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Fig. 4. Lady Lilith 1868 Oil on canvas Delaware Art Museum Mary R. Bancroft Memorial, 1935

Lady Lilith 1868, 1872-73 Oil on canvas Delaware Art Museum, Wilmington Fig. 5. Sibylla Palmifera 1865 – 1870 Oil on canvas National Museums Liverpool (Lady Lever Art Gallery, Port Sunlight)

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129

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