Poems (Rossetti, 1901)/Twice

by Christina Georgina Rossetti

TWICE

I TOOK my heart in my hand
 (O my love, O my love),
I said: Let me fall or stand,
 Let me live or die,
But this once hear me speak—
 (O my love, O my love)—
Yet a woman's words are weak;
 You should speak, not I.

You took my heart in your hand
 With a friendly smile,
With a critical eye you scanned,
 Then set it down,
And said: It is still unripe,
 Better wait awhile;
Wait while the skylarks pipe,
 Till the corn grows brown.

As you set it down it broke-
 Broke, but I did not wince;
I smiled at the speech you spoke,
 At your judgment that I heard:
But I have not often smiled
 Since then, nor questioned since,
Nor cared for corn-flowers wild,
 Nor sung with the singing bird.

I take my heart in my hand,
 O my God, O my God,
My broken heart in my hand:
 Thou hast seen, judge Thou.
My hope was written on sand,
 O my God, O my God:
Now let Thy judgment stand—
 Yea, judge me now.

This contemned of a man,
 This marred one heedless day,
This heart take Thou to scan
 Both within and without:
Refine with fire its gold,
 Purge Thou its dross away—
Yea, hold it in Thy hold,
 Whence none can pluck it out.

I take my heart in my hand—
 I shall not die, but live—
Before Thy face I stand;
 I, for Thou callest such:
All that I have I bring,
 All that I am I give,
Smile Thou and I shall sing,
 But shall not question much.