#English #Victorians #Women #XIXCentury
I loved you first: but afterwards… Outsoaring mine, sang such a lofti… As drowned the friendly cooings of… Which owes the other most? my love… And yours one moment seemed to wax…
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,
The dog lies in his kennel, And Puss purrs on the rug, And baby perches on my knee For me to love and hug. Pat the dog and stroke the cat,
Brown and furry Caterpillar in a hurry, Take your walk To the shady leaf, or stalk, Or what not,
Margaret has a milking—pail, And she rises early; Thomas has a threshing—flail, And he’s up betimes. Sometimes crossing through the gra…
THE irresponsive silence of the l… The irresponsive sounding of the s… Speak both one message of one sens… Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so s… Thou too aloof, bound with the fla…
Gone were but the Winter, Come were but the Spring, I would go to a covert Where the birds sing; Where in the whitethorn
Keep love for youth, and violets f… Of if these bloom when worn—out au… Let them lie hid in double shade o… Their own, and others dropped down… For violets suit when home birds b…
“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
Minnie bakes oaten cakes, Minnie brews ale, All because her Johnny’s coming Home from sea. And she glows like a rose
Mother shake the cherry—tree, Susan catch a cherry; Oh how funny that will be, Let’s be merry! One for brother, one for sister,
Baby lies so fast asleep That we cannot wake her: Will the angels clad in white Fly from heaven to take her? Baby lies so fast asleep
Chide not; let me breathe a little… For I shall not mourn him long; Though the life—cord was so brittl… The love—cord was very strong. I would wake a little space
I bore with thee long weary days a… Through many pangs of heart, throu… I bore with thee, thy hardness, co… For three and thirty years. Who else had dared for thee what…
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?