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Christina Rossetti: Poems

Devotional Pieces: Despised And Rejected


My sun has set, I dwell

In darkness as a dead man out of sight;

And none remains, not one, that I should tell

To him mine evil plight

This bitter night.

I will make fast my door

That hollow friends may trouble me no more.


'Friend, open to Me.'--Who is this that calls?

Nay, I am deaf as are my walls:

Cease crying, for I will not hear 10

Thy cry of hope or fear.

Others were dear,

Others forsook me: what art thou indeed

That I should heed

Thy lamentable need?

Hungry should feed,

Or stranger lodge thee here?


'Friend, My Feet bleed.

Open thy door to Me and comfort Me.'

I will not open, trouble me no more. 20

Go on thy way footsore,

I will not rise and open unto thee.


'Then is it nothing to thee? Open, see

Who stands to plead with thee.

Open, lest I should pass thee by, and thou

One day entreat My Face

And howl for grace,

And I be deaf as thou art now.

Open to Me.'


Then I cried out upon him: Cease, 30

Leave me in peace:

Fear not that I should crave

Aught thou mayst have.

Leave me in peace, yea trouble me no more,

Lest I arise and chase thee from my door.

What, shall I not be let

Alone, that thou dost vex me yet?


But all night long that voice spake urgently:

'Open to Me.'

Still harping in mine ears: 40

'Rise, let Me in.'

Pleading with tears:

'Open to Me that I may come to thee.'

While the dew dropped, while the dark hours were cold:

'My Feet bleed, see My Face,

See My Hands bleed that bring thee grace,

My Heart doth bleed for thee,

Open to Me.'


So till the break of day:

Then died away 50

That voice, in silence as of sorrow;

Then footsteps echoing like a sigh

Passed me by,

Lingering footsteps slow to pass.

On the morrow

I saw upon the grass

Each footprint marked in blood, and on my door

The mark of blood for evermore.

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