#English #Victorians #Women #XIXCentury
A night was near, a day was near, Between a day and night I heard sweet voices calling clear… Calling me: I heard a whirr of wing on wing,
Three little children On the wide wide earth, Motherless children— Cared for from their birth By tender angels.
I, a princess, king—descended, dec… Would rather be a peasant with her… For all I shine so like the sun,… Two and two my guards behind, two… Two and two on either hand, they g…
I have a Poll parrot, And Poll is my doll, And my nurse is Polly, And my sister Poll. ‘Polly!’ cried Polly,
“Goodbye in fear, goodbye in sorro… Goodbye, and all in vain, Never to meet again, my dear—” “Never to part again.” “Goodbye today, goodbye tomorrow,
Hope is like a harebell trembling… Love is like a rose the joy of all… Faith is like a lily lifted high a… Love is like a lovely rose the wor… Harebells and sweet lilies show a…
Go from me, summer friends, and ta… I am no summer friend, but wintry… A silly sheep benighted from the f… A sluggard with a thorn—choked gar… Take counsel, sever from my lot yo…
Love, strong as Death, is dead. Come, let us make his bed Among the dying flowers: A green turf at his head; And a stone at his feet,
Jesus, do I love Thee? Thou art far above me, Seated out of sight Hid in Heavenly Light Of most highest height.
I wonder if the sap is stirring ye… If wintry birds are dreaming of a… If frozen snowdrops feel as yet th… And crocus fires are kindling one… Sing, robin, sing;
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
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,…
I looked for that which is not, no… And hope deferred made my heart si… But years must pass before a hope… Is resigned utterly. I watched and waited with a steadf…
Life is not sweet. One day it wil… To shut our eyes and die: Nor feel the wild flowers blow, no… With flitting butterfly, Nor grass grow long above our head…
I tell my secret? No indeed, not… Perhaps some day, who knows? But not today; it froze, and blows… And you’re too curious: fie! You want to hear it? well:
