Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Was that the landmark? What,—the foolish well
Whose wave, low down, I did not stoop to drink,
But sat and flung the pebbles from its brink
In sport to send its imaged skies pell-mell,
(And mine own image, had I noted well!)
Was that my point of turning?—I had thought
The stations of my course should rise unsought,
As altar-stone or ensigned citadel.
But lo! the path is missed, I must go back,
And thirst to drink when next I reach the spring
Which once I stained, which since may have grown black.
Yet though no light be left nor bird now sing
As here I turn, I'll thank God, hastening,
That the same goal is still on the same track.