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Dante Gabriel Rossetti - Sonnet LIII: Without Her
Work rating: Low

What of her glass without her? The blank grey
There where the pool is blind of the moon`s face.
Her dress without her? The tossed empty space
Of cloud-rack whence the moon has passed away.
Her paths without her? Day`s appointed sway
Usurped by desolate night. Her pillowed place
Without her? Tears, ah me! for love`s good grace,
And cold forgetfulness of night or day.
What of the heart without her? Nay, poor heart,
Of thee what word remains ere speech be still?
A wayfarer by barren ways and chill,
Steep ways and weary, without her thou art,
Where the long cloud, the long wood`s counterpart,
Sheds doubled darkness up the labouring hill.
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