Christina Rossetti — I Will Lift Up Mine Eyes Unto The Hills

I am pale with sick desire,         For my heart is far away From this world's fitful fire         And this world's waning day; In a dream it overleaps         A world of tedious ills To where the sunshine sleeps         On the everlasting hills.--         Say the Saints: There Angels ease us                 Glorified and white.         They say: We rest in Jesus,                 Where is not day or night. My soul saith: I have sought         For a home that is not gained, I have spent yet nothing bought,         Have laboured but not attained; My pride strove to mount and grow,         And hath but dwindled down; My love sought love, and lo!         Hath not attained its crown.--         Say the Saints: Fresh souls increase us,                 None languish or recede.         They say: We love our Jesus,                 And He loves us indeed. I cannot rise above,         I cannot rest beneath, I cannot find out love,         Or escape from death; Dear hopes and joys gone by         Still mock me with a name; My best belovèd die,         And I cannot die with them.--         Say the Saints: No deaths decrease us,                 Where our rest is glorious.         They say: We live in Jesus,                 Who once died for us. O my soul, she beats her wings         And pants to fly away Up to immortal things         In the heavenly day: Yet she flags and almost faints;         Can such be meant for me?-- Come and see, say the Saints.         Saith Jesus: Come and see.         Say the Saints: His pleasures please us                 Before God and the Lamb.         Come and taste My sweets, saith Jesus:                 Be with Me where I am.