An Immurata Sister by Christina Rossetti (listen online)
- hyperbolelad
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» hyperbolelad - listen online to classic poems set to music
Almost nun like in her life style the intensely reclusive Christina Rossetti (1830 - 1894) seemed to almost yearn in this lovely poem for the purity of the Immurata sisterhood an enclosed order of nuns who were immured (completely isolated) from the outside world in the belief that through living an isolated puritan existence it would bring greater holiness. Whilst Christina may have dreamed of such a lifestyle her thoughts in this poem seem to betray a disbelief that such an barren existence would ultimately provide the hoped for fullfilment.....Heres a link to the page where you can listen online to this and many other classic poems set to music......
Regards.
Jim Clark
PS..Dont forget you can if you prefer listen to my sound poems at my Yahoo "sound poetry" web groups (look in "files") heres that link..
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/bloozman_u...
You can listen to this particular poem in my second yahoo "Soundpoemz" sound poetry group heres that link..
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/soundpoemz/
All rights are reserved on this sound recording/copyright/patent Jim Clark 2004
An Immurata Sister
Life flows down to death; we cannot bind
That current that it should not flee:
Life flows down to death, as rivers find
The inevitable sea.
Men work and think, but women feel;
And so (for I'm a woman, I)
And so I should be glad to die,
And cease from impotence of zeal,
And cease from hope, and cease from dread,
And cease from yearnings without gain,
And cease from all this world of pain,
And be at peace among the dead.
Hearts that die, by death renew their youth,
Lightened of this life that doubts and dies;
Silent and contented, while the Truth
Unveiled makes them wise.
Why should I seek and never find
That something which I have not had?
Fair and unutterably sad
The world hath sought time out of mind;
The world have sought and I have sought,-
Ah empty world and empty I!
For we have spent our strength for nought,
And soon it will be time to die.
Sparks fly upward toward their fount of fire,
Kindling, flashing, hovering:--
Kindle, flash, my soul; mount higher and higher,
Thou whole burnt-offering!
-- posted by hyperbolelad
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