Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Broken Music

The mother will not turn, who thinks she hears
   Her nursling’s speech first grow articulate;
   But breathless with averted eyes elate
She sits, with open lips and open ears,
That it may call her twice. 'Mid doubts and fears
   Thus oft my soul has hearkened; till the song,
   A central moan for days, at length found tongue,
And the sweet music welled and the sweet tears.
 
But now, whatever while the soul is fain
   To list that wonted murmur, as it were
The speech—bound sea—shell’s low importunate strain,—
   No breath of song, thy voice alone is there,
O bitterly beloved! and all her gain
   Is but the pang of unpermitted prayer.

Sonnet XLVII from "The House of Life: A Sonnet Sequence"

#EnglishWriters #Sonnet #Sonnet #Victorian The A House Life: Sequence XLVII from of

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