#English #Victorians #Women
Vanity of vanities, the Preacher… All things are vanity. The eye an… Cannot be filled with what they se… Like early dew, or like the sudden… Of wind, or like the grass that wi…
Am I a stone and not a sheep That I can stand, O Christ, bene… To number drop by drop Thy Blood’… And yet not weep? Not so those women loved
Ah! changed and cold, how changed… With stiffened smiling lips and co… Changed, yet the same; much knowin… This was the promise of the days o… Grown hard and stubborn in the anc…
I loved my love from green of Spr… Until sere Autumn’s fall; But now that leaves are withering How should one love at all? One heart’s too small
We met, hand to hand, We clasped hands close and fast, As close as oak and ivy stand; But it is past: Come day, come night, day comes at…
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,
‘Oh, sad thy lot before I came, But sadder when I go; My presence but a flash of flame, A transitory glow Between two barren wastes like sno…
A rose has thorns as well as honey… I’ll not have her for love or mone… An iris grows so straight and fine… That she shall be no friend of min… Snowdrops like the snow would chil…
To think that this meaningless thi… Scentless, colourless, this! Will it ever be thus (who knows?) Thus with our bliss, If we wait till the close?
O sailor, come ashore, What have you brought for me? Red coral, white coral, Coral from the sea. I did not dig it from the ground,
Did any bird come flying After Adam and Eve, When the door was shut against the… And they sat down to grieve? I think not Eve’s peacock
I took my heart in my hand (O my love, O my love), I said: Let me fall or stand, Let me live or die, But this once hear me speak—
A song in a cornfield Where corn begins to fall, Where reapers are reaping, Reaping one, reaping all. Sing pretty Lettice,
Jesus, do I love Thee? Thou art far above me, Seated out of sight Hid in Heavenly Light Of most highest height.
The rose with such a bonny blush, What has the rose to blush about? If it’s the sun that makes her flu… What’s in the sun to flush about?