Listen now | Poet Christina Rossetti was born in 1830, the youngest child in an extraordinarily gifted family. Her father, the Italian poet and political exile Gabriele Rossetti, immigrated to England in 1824 and established a career as a Dante scholar and teacher of Italian in London. He married the half-English, half-Italian Frances Polidori in 1826, and they had four children in quick succession: Maria Francesca in 1827, Gabriel Charles Dante (famous under the name Dante Gabriel but always called Gabriel by family members) in 1828, William Michael in 1829, and Christina Georgina on 5 December 1830. In 1831 Gabriele Rossetti was appointed to the chair of Italian at the newly opened King’s College. The children received their earliest education, and Maria and Christina all of theirs, from their mother, who had been trained as a governess and was committed to cultivating intellectual excellence in her family. Certainly this ambition was satisfied: Maria was the author of a respected study of Dante, as well as books on religious instruction and Italian grammar and translation; Dante Gabriel distinguished himself as one of the foremost poets and painters of his era; and William was a prolific art and literary critic, editor, and memoirist of the Pre-Raphaelite movement. Christina became one of the Victorian age’s finest poets. She was the author of numerous books of poetry, including
I love this poem! And exactly for the explanation you gave - my daughter, who was around 6 at the time and had a book of poetry for children among her bedside pile of books - randomly busted it out at the dinner table! I had no idea she had even read it let alone memorized it. Yes, there’s something beautiful about it from the lips of a child. Also, you made me think about the fact that she’s deaf and has cochlear implants, but when she recited the poem she didn’t have them on (couldn’t hear at all), which made it all the more beautiful - and like the “negative image” of the poem, for my daughter, the unheard yet spoken.
I love this poem! And exactly for the explanation you gave - my daughter, who was around 6 at the time and had a book of poetry for children among her bedside pile of books - randomly busted it out at the dinner table! I had no idea she had even read it let alone memorized it. Yes, there’s something beautiful about it from the lips of a child. Also, you made me think about the fact that she’s deaf and has cochlear implants, but when she recited the poem she didn’t have them on (couldn’t hear at all), which made it all the more beautiful - and like the “negative image” of the poem, for my daughter, the unheard yet spoken.
Suzanne, I love love love this; thank you for mentioning it.