#English #Victorians #Women #XIXCentury
I did not chide him, though I kne… That he was false to me. Chide the exhaling of the dew, The ebbing of the sea, The fading of a rosy hue,—
‘Now did you mark a falcon, Sister dear, sister dear, Flying toward my window In the morning cool and clear? With jingling bells about her neck…
I have no wit, no words, no tears; My heart within me like a stone Is numb’d too much for hopes or fe… Look right, look left, I dwell al… I lift mine eyes, but dimm’d with…
A white hen sitting On white eggs three: Next, three speckled chickens As plump as plump can be. An owl, and a hawk,
Hop–o’–my–thumb and little Jack H… What do you mean by tearing and fi… Sturdy dog Trot close round the c… I never caught him growling and bi…
THE irresponsive silence of the l… The irresponsive sounding of the s… Speak both one message of one sens… Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so s… Thou too aloof, bound with the fla…
Pardon the faults in me, For the love of years ago: Good—bye. I must drift across the sea, I must sink into the snow,
Herself a rose, who bore the Rose… She bore the Rose and felt its th… All loveliness new—born Took on her bosom its repose, And slept and woke there night and…
‘A cup for hope!’ she said, In springtime ere the bloom was ol… The crimson wine was poor and cold By her mouth’s richer red. ‘A cup for love!’ how low,
It is over. What is over? Nay, now much is over truly!— Harvest days we toiled to sow for; Now the sheaves are gathered newly… Now the wheat is garnered duly.
New Year met me somewhat sad: Old Year leaves me tired, Stripped of favourite things I ha… Baulked of much desired: Yet farther on my road to—day
Lie a—bed, Sleepy head, Shut up eyes, bo—peep; Till daybreak Never wake: —
Two gaz’d into a pool, he gaz’d an… Not hand in hand, yet heart in hea… Pale and reluctant on the water’s… AS on the brink of parting which… Each eyed the other’s aspect, she…
Blind from my birth, Where flowers are springing I sit on earth All dark. Hark! hark!
Out of the church she followed the… With a lofty step and mien: His bride was like a village maid, Maude Clare was like a queen. “Son Thomas, ” his lady mother sa…