In shadows deep, where echoes sleep,
Christina’s words still softly creep;
Through time and space, they find their place,
A gentle touch, a warm embrace.

Her verses sing of love and pain,
Of fleeting joy and endless rain;
With every line, her soul we see,
A glimpse of her, eternally.

The morning light, the twilight’s hue,
In every scene, her poems true;
They paint the world with tender grace,
And leave a smile upon each face.

So here we stand, in awe we read,
The legacy of Rossetti’s creed;
Her timeless art, her whispered song,
In every heart, she still belongs.