#English #Victorians #Women #XIXCentury
I caught a little ladybird That flies far away; I caught a little lady wife That is both staid and gay. Come back, my scarlet ladybird,
Why does the sea moan evermore? Shut out from heaven it makes its… It frets against the boundary shor… All earth’s full rivers cannot fil… The sea, that drinking thirsteth s…
Once I thought to sit so high In the Palace of the sky; Now, I thank God for His Grace, If I may fill the lowest place. Once I thought to scale so soon
There’s snow on the fields, And cold in the cottage, While I sit in the chimney nook Supping hot pottage. My clothes are soft and warm,
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…
Stroke a flint, and there is nothi… Strike a flint, and forthwith flas…
A rose has thorns as well as honey… I’ll not have her for love or mone… An iris grows so straight and fine… That she shall be no friend of min… Snowdrops like the snow would chil…
What are heavy? Sea—sand and sorr… What are brief? To—day and to—mor… What are frail? Spring blossoms a… What are deep? The ocean and trut…
Margaret has a milking—pail, And she rises early; Thomas has a threshing—flail, And he’s up betimes. Sometimes crossing through the gra…
She gave up beauty in her tender y… Gave all her hope and joy and plea… She covered up her eyes lest they… On vanity, and chose the bitter tr… Harsh towards herself, towards oth…
I planted a hand And there came up a palm, I planted a heart And there came up balm. Then I planted a wish,
There is but one May in the year, And sometimes May is wet and cold… There is but one May in the year Before the year grows old. Yet though it be the chilliest Ma…
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.
Boats sail on the rivers, And ships sail on the seas; But clouds that sail across the sk… Are prettier far than these. There are bridges on the rivers,
Live all thy sweet life through, Sweet Rose, dew—sprent, Drop down thine evening dew To gather it anew When day is bright: