Christina Rossetti

Life and writing

Christina Rossetti was an English poet born in London in 1830, with a documented lifetime ending in 1894. The Academy of American Poets describes her narrative and religious lyrics and identifies the collections Goblin Market and Other Poems and The Prince’s Progress and Other Poems. These references support a concise introduction to the poet; they do not establish that every line assigned to her in a historical anthology or supplied dataset has been transcribed or attributed correctly.

Up-Hill in the linked combined collection alternates a traveller’s questions with answers about the road, shelter and those who have gone before. Reading the whole sequence makes endurance part of a conversation, rather than reducing it to one reassuring line. Goblin Market uses a different narrative and sisterly relationship. Interpret the images with their speakers and surrounding action in view. Neither a journey metaphor nor a fictional voice should automatically be treated as a direct account of the poet’s experience.

Reading this voice

Read Up-Hill in full, then compare how Goblin Market presents support and danger. The archive’s longer signed Optimist selection has wording differences from this edition; the unfinished-work saying comes from a separate historical anthology, not this poem. Thirty-four associated records include 32 supplied entries that remain independently unverified. The 1913 combined contents and documented lifetime do not date the composition of every excerpt.

Subjects to explore

Words to begin with

• "Does the road wind up-hill all the way?" "Yes, to the very end!" "Will the day's journey take the whole long day?" "From morn to night, my friend!" "But is there for the night a resting-place?" "A roof for all when the dark hours begin." "May not the darkness hide it from my face?" "You cannot miss that inn." "Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?" "Those who have gone before." "Then must I knock or call when just in sight?" "They will not keep you standing at that door." "Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?" "Of labor you shall find the sum." "Will there be beds for me and all who seek?" "Yea,—beds for all who come!"
• Can anything be sadder than work left unfinished? Yes; work never begun.