#English #Victorians #Women #XIXCentury
I plucked pink blossoms from mine… And wore them all that evening in… Then in due season when I went to… I found no apples there. With dangling basket all along the…
I will tell you when they met: In the limpid days of Spring; Elder boughs were budding yet, Oaken boughs looked wintry still, But primrose and veined violet
The peach tree on the southern wal… Has basked so long beneath the sun… Her score of peaches great and sma… Bloom rosy, every one. A peach for brothers, one for each…
A linnet in a gilded cage,— A linnet on a bough,— In frosty winter one might doubt Which bird is luckier now. But let the trees burst out in lea…
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;
O Lady Moon, your horns point tow… Shine, be increased; O Lady Moon, your horns point tow… Wane, be at rest.
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…
But give me holly, bold and jolly, Honest, prickly, shining holly; Pluck me holly leaf and berry For the day when I make merry
In my Autumn garden I was fain To mourn among my scattered roses; Alas for that last rosebud which u… To Autumn’s languid sun and rain When all the world is on the wane!
‘Croak, croak, croak,’ Thus the Raven spoke, Perched on his crooked tree As hoarse as hoarse could be. Shun him and fear him,
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…
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…
It’s a weary life, it is, she said… Doubly blank in a woman’s lot: I wish and I wish I were a man: Or, better then any being, were no… Were nothing at all in all the wor…
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…
It is over. What is over? Nay, now much is over truly!— Harvest days we toiled to sow for; Now the sheaves are gathered newly… Now the wheat is garnered duly.
