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Rev. Joey N. Welsh: Christina Rossetti

ANOTHER ANGLE: the occasional musings of a Kentucky pastor
By The Rev. Joey N. Welsh
E-mail: joey_n_welsh@hotmail.com

Poets and Poetry for December, Part I: Christina Rossetti

This week marks the birthday of Christina Georgina Rossetti, who was born in London on December 5, 1830. Her father, poet Gabriele Rossetti, had come to England from Italy as a political exile and had become professor of Italian at King's College. Her mother, Frances, was the sister of Lord Byron's dear friend and physician, John William Polidori.



The Rossetti family was at the heart of religious and artistic revival in Victorian England. Christina's brothers, Dante Gabriel and William Michael, were among the leading lights of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, an art movement that included John Ruskin and James McNeil Whistler. Christina served as a model for some of the Pre-Raphaelite painters.

Christina and her mother were involved with the Anglo-Catholic movement within the Church of England, a religious faction that sought to restore beauty and order in church liturgy and architecture. Christina wrote religious verse and devotional materials for children and adults most of her life. She first gained fame on the literary scene with publication a long poem filled with vivid imagery, "Goblin Market."

Its appearance in 1862, just months after the death of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, led some critics to refer to Rossetti as Browning's successor and the new "female poet laureate" of England. Two of Christina Rossetti's poems became texts for widely-published Christmas hymns, "Love Came Down at Christmas" and "In the Bleak Midwinter."

Rossetti died of cancer in 1893 and was interred in London's Highgate Cemetery. Her gravesite is near those of her immediate family and not far from those of prominent figures as diverse as scientist Michael Faraday, political philosopher Karl Marx and novelist George Eliot (pen name of Mary Ann Evans).

Rossetti was well-known by 1872 when Scribner's Monthly asked her to submit a Christmas poem. She replied with "In the Bleak Midwinter." In a number of public surveys this hymn consistently is listed simultaneously as the "favorite hymn" and "least-favorite hymn" by large numbers of people. Folks evidently either like this hymn powerfully or dislike it vehemently. I am among those who really like the text, especially when sung to the hymn tune "Cranham," composed by Gustav Holst.

Christina Rossetti's Christmas hymns began appearing in song collections and hymnals when most texts were written by men and selected by hymnal committees controlled by uptight men. Perhaps for that reason most hymnals omit the slightly earthy verse 3 of Rossetti's original text; I like that verse, as well. In some churches I have served, where folks were not fond of the hymn, I've used the final verse as an offering response during Advent and Christmas instead of the Doxology those congregations were accustomed to singing. One way or another, I've usually managed to get an annual dose of Christina Rossetti's Christmas poetry.

Here, on the week of Christina Rossetti's birth, is the complete text of "In the Bleak Midwinter." I hope you accept it with joy and not as something inflicted upon you!
In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, Whom cherubim, worship night and day,
A breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, Whom angels fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel which adore.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, in her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.

What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.
Next week: another poet for December, Emily Dickinson, who also was born in December, 1830.
If you are as inspired by this column as editors of ColumbiaMagazine are and wish to read other "Another Angle" columns, enter "Rev. Joey N. Welsh" in the search box.


This story was posted on 2010-12-05 07:33:25
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