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Christina Georgina Rossetti

Christina Georgina Rossetti

Brown and Furry

Brown and furry
Caterpillar in a hurry,
Take your walk
To the shady leaf, or stalk,
Or what not,
Which may be the chosen spot.
No toad spy you,
Hovering bird of prey pass by you;
Spin and die,
To live again a butterfly.

#EnglishWriters #FemaleWriters #VictorianWriters

Other works by Christina Georgina Rossetti...
Playing at Bob Cherry

Playing at bob cherry Tom and Nell and Hugh: Cherry bob! cherry bob! There’s a bob for you. Tom bobs a cherry
Minnie and Mattie

Minnie and Mattie And fat little May, Out in the country, Spending a day. Such a bright day,
A White Hen Sitting

A white hen sitting On white eggs three: Next, three speckled chickens As plump as plump can be. An owl, and a hawk,
My Friend

Two days ago with dancing glancing… With living lips and eyes: Now pale, dumb, blind, she lies; So pale, yet still so fair. We have not left her yet, not yet…
Shut Out

The door was shut. I looked betwe… Its iron bars; and saw it lie, My garden, mine, beneath the sky, Pied with all flowers bedewed and… From bough to bough the song—birds…
In an Artist's Studio

One face looks out from all his ca… One selfsame figure sits or walks… We found her hidden just behind th… That mirror gave back all her love… A queen in opal or in ruby dress,
Conference Between Christ, the Saints, and the Soul

I am pale with sick desire, For my heart is far away From this world’s fitful fire And this world’s waning day; In a dream it overleaps
Holy Innocents

Sleep, little Baby, sleep, The holy Angels love thee, And guard thy bed, and keep A blessed watch above thee. No spirit can come near
Margaret Has a Milking-Pail

Margaret has a milking—pail, And she rises early; Thomas has a threshing—flail, And he’s up betimes. Sometimes crossing through the gra…
Memory

I nursed it in my bosom while it l… I hid it in my heart when it was d… In joy I sat alone, even so I gri… Alone and nothing said. I shut the door to face the naked…
The Horses of the Sea

The horses of the sea Rear a foaming crest, But the horses of the land Serve us the best. The horses of the land
Song IV

Oh roses for the flush of youth, And laurel for the perfect prime; But pluck an ivy branch for me Grown old before my time. Oh violets for the grave of youth,
A Bird’s-Eye View

‘Croak, croak, croak,’ Thus the Raven spoke, Perched on his crooked tree As hoarse as hoarse could be. Shun him and fear him,
The Summer Nights Are Short

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
Twist Me a Crown of Wind-Flowers

Twist me a crown of wind—flowers; That I may fly away To hear the singers at their song, And players at their play. Put on your crown of wind—flowers:



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