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Shvoong Home>Books>Poetry>Review on “the Blessed Damozel” by D.G. Rossetti Review

Review on “the Blessed Damozel” by D.G. Rossetti

Book Review   by:akso6o175     Original Author: Andy Kester Sawian
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‘The Blessed Damozel’, a decorative piece of ‘Dantesque imagery’, was composed as a sort of compliment to E.A. Poe’s ‘The Raven’, which represents a lover’s yearning for a saint maiden. In this poem, Rossetti sought to convey how the loved one in heaven felt. The blessed Damozel; variant spelling of damsel for a young woman; leaned out from the gold bar of Heaven with her eyes deeper than the depths of the still waters. She had three lilies in her hand and the stars in her hair were seven; in medieval times three and seven were considered to be sacred numbers having mystic connotations. Her robe was ungrit; loose and unbound; no wrought flowers did adorn…gift; i.e. was not embellished by any flower-like ornament except a single white rose that was a gift from Virgin Mary. For service meetly; suitably; worn and the long hair on her back was yellow like a ripe corn.
Herseemed; it seemed like; there was hardly a day that she was not one of God’s choristers; choral singers; though the wonder of her looks did not fade away. Albeit, to them she left her day had counted as ten years; the implication is that a day in heaven equal ten years on earth. To one…sets apace; the lover of the blessed Damozel is musing about his dead beloved. A few dead leaves falling upon his face had created a momentary illusion of her presence but it was dispelled almost immediately. She was standing on the ramparts of God’s house, built by God Himself in which space begun. It was so high that when she looked downward she could barely see the sun which lies in Heaven across the flood/of ether; in medieval times a pulsating ocean of an incorporeal substance called ether was believed to separate heaven from earth; as a bridge; beneath…midge; ebb and flow of ether was believed to cause day and night on earth: the void; the sheer emptiness of space: a fretful midge; an irritated and restless insect.
Time like a pulse shakes fierce…worlds; Heaven is not touched by time, but the space beyond and all creation is moved and shaken by it. The stars…sphere; it was a popular belief that all heavenly bodies moved in accordance with the rhythm of the cosmic harmony. Ah sweet! Even now…Down all the echoing stair; these lines express how the lover left behind on earth feels as he lays thinking about her. The singing bird seemed to him to echo her voice and the pealing church-bells to have created a stairway along which her soul descends to his side. When the aureole; the golden halo seen encircling the head of a superior angel; clings around his head and he is clothed in white, the narrator would take his stand and go with him to the deep wells of light they would step down to stream and bathe there in God’s sight. The two will stand beside that shrine, Occult, withheld, untrod; mysterious, distant and unapproachable; whose lamps are stirred continually with prayer sent up to God.
The two will lie in the shadow of that living mystic tree; in ancient mythology is the tree of life; whereby the Dove; Heavenly spirit i.e. the Holy Spirit of the Holy Christian Trinity; is felt within its secret growth; while every leaf that His; the Dove’s; plumes touch said His name audibly. The Virgin Mary sat on her grooves with her five hand maidens namely, Symphonies, Celily, Gertrude, Magdalen, Margaret and Rosalys. They sat circle wise with bound locks and forehead garlanded, into the fine cloth that was white like flame and weaving the golden thread to fashioned the birth robes for them who are just born, being dead; meeting a physical death on earth they are reborn in heaven as angels. The angel shall fear, haply; (archaic word) perhaps maybe; and be dumb and the narrator would lay her cheek on his and speak about their love which was not once abashed nor weak. Her dear mother would approve her pride and let her speak.
The Mother Mary herself would bring them hand in hand to God round whom all souls kneel, the clear range of unnumbered heads bowed with their aureoles and all angels meeting them would sing to their citherns and citholes; old fashioned stringed musical instruments. Then the narrator asked for Christ the Lord but The Virgin gazed and listened and said that a lesser sad speech than mild and all this would be when He returns, then she ceased. The light thrilled towards her and the strong level flight was filled with angels. Her eyes prayed and she smiled. But soon their paths became vague in different spheres. She casted her arms along the golden barriers and laid face between her hands and wept. The narrator saw her smile and heard her wept.


Published: October 08, 2010   
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