Poems (Rossetti, 1901)/"To-Day for Me"

by Christina Georgina Rossetti

2.

"TO-DAY FOR ME."

SHE sitteth still who used to dance,
She weepeth sore and more and more;—
Let us sit with thee weeping sore,
   O fair France.

 She trembleth as the days advance
Who used to be so light of heart:—
We in thy trembling bear a part,
   Sister France.

 Her eyes shine tearful as they glance:
"Who shall give back my slaughtered sons?
"Bind up," she saith,"my wounded ones."—
   Alas, France!

 She struggles in a deathly trance,
As in a dream her pulses stir,
She hears the nations calling her,
   "France, France, France."

 Thou people of the lifted lance,
Forbear her tears, forbear her blood:
Roll back, roll back, thy whelming flood,
   Back from France.

 Eye not her loveliness askance,
Forge not for her a galling chain:
Leave her at peace to bloom again,
   Vine-clad France.

 A time there is for change and chance,
A time for passing of the cup:
And One abides can yet bind up
   Broken France.

 A time there is for change and chance:
Who next shall drink the trembling cup,
Wring out its dregs and suck them up
   After France?