Featured Poem
July 31 - August 10, 1998
'Up-Hill' neither seemed attractive nor brilliant to me, stored as it was in an old file of mine, among other poems which appealed more to a heart looking for love. Yet as I read this poem today,  it stroke a cord inside my heart nonetheless, and I knew the truth of it.

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

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

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

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

Christina Rossetti
(Decembre 5th 1830 - December 29th 1894)

Christina Rossetti was born in London, her father Italian and her mother half-Italian. The house was a magnet for literary refugees and she was educated at home, and lived there all her life, retiring from work as a governess as a result of ill-health. "Differing from her Bohemian brother, Dante Gabriel, and more like her older sister (Maria Francesca) she found the world evil. She repudiated pleasure: 'I cannot possibly use the word "happy" without meaning something beyond this present life' " (Louis Untermeyer) (Collected from "Poem for a day".)


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