At Home

At Home by Christina Georgina Rossetti

After death, the speaker's spirit returns to a familiar house and finds friends feasting, laughing, and planning for tomorrow, with no one mentioning yesterday. Feeling forgotten and reluctant to part, the spirit leaves the room.

By Christina Georgina Rossetti · Genre: Narrative Poetry, Lyric Poetry · 330 words

First lines

When I was dead, my spirit turned / To seek the much-frequented house / I passed the door, and saw my friends / Feasting beneath green orange-boughs; / From hand to hand they pushed the wine, / They sucked the pulp of plum and peach; / They sang, they jested, and they laughed, / For each was loved of each.

I listened to their honest chat: / Said one: "To-morrow we shall be / Plod plod along the featureless sands, / And coasting miles and miles of sea. " / Said one: "Before the turn of tide / We will achieve the eyrie-seat. " / Said one: "To-morrow shall be like / To-day, but much more sweet."

Genres

Tags

death · friendship · forgetting · remembrance · afterlife

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