Cobwebs
Christina RossettiIt is a land with neither night nor day,
Nor heat nor cold, nor any wind, nor rain,
Nor hills nor valleys; but one even plain
Stretches thro' long unbroken miles away:
While thro' the sluggish air a twilight grey
Broodeth; no moons or seasons wax and wane,
No ebb and flow are there along the main,
No bud-time no leaf-falling there for aye,
No ripple on the sea, no shifting sand,
No beat of wings to stir the stagnant space,
No pulse of life thro' all the loveless land:
And loveless sea; no trace of days before,
No guarded home, no toil-won restingplace
No future hope no fear for evermore.
Christina RossettiIt is a land with neither night nor day,
Nor heat nor cold, nor any wind, nor rain,Nor hills nor valleys; but one even plainStretches thro' long unbroken miles away:
While thro' the sluggish air a twilight grey
Broodeth; no moons or seasons wax and wane,No ebb and flow are there along the main,No bud-time no leaf-falling there for aye,
No ripple on the sea, no shifting sand,
No beat of wings to stir the stagnant space,No pulse of life thro' all the loveless land:
And loveless sea; no trace of days before,
No guarded home, no toil-won restingplaceNo future hope no fear for evermore.