Christina Rossetti — Twice

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 scanned,          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 judgment that I heard: But I have not often smiled          Since then, nor questioned since, Nor cared for corn-flowers 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 judgment stand,--          Yea, judge me now. This contemned of a man,          This marred 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.