#English #Victorians #Women #XIXCentury
The splendour of the kindling day, The splendor of the setting sun, These move my soul to wend its way… And have done With all we grasp and toil amongst…
Eight o’clock; The postman’s knock! Five letters for Papa; One for Lou, And none for you,
How comes it, Flora, that, whenev… Play cards together, you invariabl… However the pack parts, Still hold the Queen of Hearts? I’ve scanned you with a scrutinizi…
I took my heart in my hand (O my love, O my love), I said: Let me fall or stand, Let me live or die, But this once hear me speak—
Is the moon tired? she looks so pa… Within her misty veil: She scales the sky from east to we… And takes no rest. Before the coming of the night
If I might see another Spring I’d not plant summer flowers and w… I’d have my crocuses at once My leafless pink mezereons, My chill—veined snow—drops, choice…
If stars dropped out of heaven, And if flowers took their place, The sky would still look very fair… And fair earth’s face. Winged angels might fly down to us
Wrens and robins in the hedge, Wrens and robins here and there; Building, perching, pecking, flutt… Everywhere! C
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…
O Lady Moon, your horns point tow… Shine, be increased; O Lady Moon, your horns point tow… Wane, be at rest.
Go from me, summer friends, and ta… I am no summer friend, but wintry… A silly sheep benighted from the f… A sluggard with a thorn—choked gar… Take counsel, sever from my lot yo…
In the bleak midwinter, frosty win… Earth stood hard as iron, water li… Snow had fallen, snow on snow, sno… In the bleak midwinter, long ago. Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him,…
Promise me no promises, So will I not promise you: Keep we both our liberties, Never false and never true: Let us hold the die uncast,
The days are clear, Day after day, When April’s here, That leads to May, And June
If hope grew on a bush, And joy grew on a tree, What a nosegay for the plucking There would be! But oh! in windy autumn,