#EnglishWriters #FemaleWriters #VictorianWriters
What would I give for a heart of… Instead of this heart of stone ice… Hard and cold and small, of all he… What would I give for words, if o… But now in its misery my spirit ha…
Why does the sea moan evermore? Shut out from heaven it makes its… It frets against the boundary shor… All earth’s full rivers cannot fil… The sea, that drinking thirsteth s…
The summer nights are short Where northern days are long: For hours and hours lark after lar… Trills out his song. The summer days are short
They made the chamber sweet with f… And the bed sweet with flowers on… While my soul, love—bound, loitere… I did not hear the birds about the… Nor hear the reapers talk among th…
O Lady Moon, your horns point tow… Shine, be increased; O Lady Moon, your horns point tow… Wane, be at rest.
In the bleak midwinter, frosty win… Earth stood hard as iron, water li… Snow had fallen, snow on snow, sno… In the bleak midwinter, long ago. Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him,…
A hundred, a thousand to one; even… Not a hope in the world remained: The swarming howling wretches belo… Gained and gained and gained. Skene looked at his pale young wif…
I wish I could remember the first… First hour, first moment of your m… If bright or dim the season, it mi… Summer or winter for aught I can… So unrecorded did it slip away,
I caught a little ladybird That flies far away; I caught a little lady wife That is both staid and gay. Come back, my scarlet ladybird,
Wee wee husband, Give me some money, I have no comfits, And I have no honey. Wee wee wifie,
What is pink? a rose is pink By a fountain’s brink. What is red? a poppy’s red In its barley bed. What is blue? the sky is blue
I have a little husband And he is gone to sea, The winds that whistle round his s… Fly home to me. The winds that sigh about me
I would not if I could undo my pa… Tho’ for its sake my future is a b… My past, for which I have myself… For all its faults and follies fir… I would not cast anew the lot once…
The city mouse lives in a house; — The garden mouse lives in a bower, He’s friendly with the frogs and t… And sees the pretty plants in flow… The city mouse eats bread and chee…
In my Autumn garden I was fain To mourn among my scattered roses; Alas for that last rosebud which u… To Autumn’s languid sun and rain When all the world is on the wane!
