#English #Victorians #Women #XIXCentury
The sunrise wakes the lark to sing… The moonrise wakes the nightingale… Come darkness, moonrise, everythin… That is so silent, sweet, and pale… Come, so ye wake the nightingale.
The rose that blushes rosy red, She must hang her head; The lily that blows spotless white… She may stand upright.
‘While I sit at the door Sick to gaze within Mine eye weepeth sore For sorrow and sin: As a tree my sin stands
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,
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
How comes it, Flora, that, whenev… Play cards together, you invariabl… However the pack parts, Still hold the Queen of Hearts? I’ve scanned you with a scrutinizi…
Passing away, saith the World, pa… Chances, beauty and youth, sapp’d… Thy life never continueth in one s… Is the eye waxen dim, is the dark… That hath won neither laurel nor b…
My baby has a father and a mother, Rich little baby! Fatherless, motherless, I know an… Forlorn as may be: Poor little baby!
“Too late for love, too late for j… Too late, too late! You loitered on the road too long, You trifled at the gate: The enchanted dove upon her branch
You must not call me Maggie, you… For I’m Lady of the Manor now st… And if there comes a babe, as ther… 'Twill be little lord or lady at m… Oh, but what ails you, my sailor c…
January cold desolate; February all dripping wet; March wind ranges; April changes; Birds sing in tune
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,…
God strengthen me to bear myself; That heaviest weight of all to bea… Inalienable weight of care. All others are outside myself; I lock my door and bar them out
A pocket handkerchief to hem — Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear! How many stitches it will take Before it’s done, I fear. Yet set a stitch and then a stitch…
All the bells were ringing And all the birds were singing, When Molly sat down crying For her broken doll: O you silly Moll!