#English #Victorians #Women #XIXCentury
If a mouse could fly, Or if a crow could swim, Or if a sprat could walk and talk, I’d like to be like him. If a mouse could fly,
Clever little Willie wee, Bright—eyed, blue—eyed little fell… Merry little Margery With her hair all yellow. Little Willie in his heart
Margaret has a milking—pail, And she rises early; Thomas has a threshing—flail, And he’s up betimes. Sometimes crossing through the gra…
Heartsease in my garden bed, With sweetwilliam white and red, Honeysuckle on my wall: — Heartsease blossoms in my heart When sweet William comes to call,
Baby cry — Oh fie! — At the physic in the cup: Gulp it twice And gulp it thrice,
O sailor, come ashore, What have you brought for me? Red coral, white coral, Coral from the sea. I did not dig it from the ground,
Your hands lie open in the long fr… The finger—points look through lik… Your eyes smile peace. The pastur… ‘Neath billowing skies that scatte… All round our nest, far as the eye…
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
‘There’s a footstep coming: look o… ‘The leaves are falling, the wind… No one cometh across the lea.’— ‘There’s a footstep coming: O sis… ‘The ripple flashes, the white foa…
A cold wind stirs the blackthorn To burgeon and to blow, Besprinkling half—green hedges With flakes and sprays of snow. Through coldness and through keenn…
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…
In the bleak mid—winter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
O earth, lie heavily upon her eyes… Seal her sweet eyes weary of watch… Lie close around her; leave no roo… With its harsh laughter, nor for s… She hath no questions, she hath no…
Three little children On the wide wide earth, Motherless children— Cared for from their birth By tender angels.
If the moon came from heaven, Talking all the way, What could she have to tell us, And what could she say? ‘I’ve seen a hundred pretty things…