#English #Victorians #Women #XIXCentury
I planted a hand And there came up a palm, I planted a heart And there came up balm. Then I planted a wish,
The earth was green, the sky was b… I saw and heard one sunny morn, A skylark hang between the two, A singing speck above the corn; A stage below, in gay accord,
Sleeping at last, the trouble and… Sleeping at last, the struggle and… Cold and white, out of sight of fr… Sleeping at last. No more a tired heart downcast or…
The curtains were half drawn, the… And strewn with rushes, rosemary a… Lay thick upon the bed on which I… Where through the lattice ivy—shad… He leaned above me, thinking that…
I had a love in soft south land, Beloved through April far in May; He waited on my lightest breath, And never dared to say me nay. He saddened if my cheer was sad,
When I was dead, my spirit turned To seek the much—frequented house: I passed the door, and saw my frie… Feasting beneath green orange boug… From hand to hand they pushed the…
What does the donkey bray about? What does the pig grunt through hi… What does the goose mean by a hiss… Oh, Nurse, if you can tell me thi… I’ll give you such a kiss.
Golden—winged, silver—winged, Winged with flashing flame, Such a flight of birds I saw, Birds without a name: Singing songs in their own tongue
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
What does the bee do? Bring home honey. And what does Father do? Bring home money. And what does Mother do?
Blind from my birth, Where flowers are springing I sit on earth All dark. Hark! hark!
Three plum buns To eat here at the stile In the clover meadow, For we have walked a mile. One for you, and one for me,
My baby has a father and a mother, Rich little baby! Fatherless, motherless, I know an… Forlorn as may be: Poor little baby!
Rosy maiden Winifred, With a milkpail on her head, Tripping through the corn, While the dew lies on the wheat In the sunny morn.
A fool I was to sleep at noon, And wake when night is chilly Beneath the comfortless cold moon; A fool to pluck my rose too soon, A fool to snap my lily.