Twice

by Christina Rossetti

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 scann’d,
   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 judgement I heard:
But I have not often smiled
   Since then, nor question’d since,
Nor cared for cornflowers 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 judgement stand —
   Yea, judge me now.

This contemn’d of a man,
   This marr’d 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.