#English #Victorians #Women #XIXCentury
Every valley drinks, Every dell and hollow; Where the kind rain sinks and sink… Green of Spring will follow. Yet a lapse of weeks
Crimson curtains round my mother’s… Silken soft as may be; Cool white curtains round about my… For I am but a baby.
Your brother has a falcon, Your sister has a flower; But what is left for mannikin, Born within a hour? I’ll nurse you on my knee, my knee…
A blue—eyed phantom far before Is laughing, leaping toward the su… Like lead I chase it evermore, I pant and run. It breaks the sunlight bound on bo…
As violets so be I recluse and sw… Cheerful as daisies unaccounted ra… Still sunward—gazing from a lowly… Still sweetening wintry air. While half—awakened Spring lags i…
When a mounting skylark sings In the sunlit summer morn, I know that heaven is up on high, And on earth are fields of corn. But when a nightingale sings
‘I dreamt I caught a little owl And the bird was blue —’ ‘But you may hunt for ever And not find such a one.’ ‘I dreamt I set a sunflower,
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,
Love came down at Christmas, Love all lovely, love divine; Love was born at Christmas, Star and angels gave the sign. Worship we the Godhead,
Wrens and robins in the hedge, Wrens and robins here and there; Building, perching, pecking, flutt… Everywhere! C
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…
New Year met me somewhat sad: Old Year leaves me tired, Stripped of favourite things I ha… Baulked of much desired: Yet farther on my road to—day
A baby’s cradle with no baby in it… A baby’s grave where autumn leaves… The sweet soul gathered home to P… The body waiting here.
A hundred, a thousand to one; even… Not a hope in the world remained: The swarming howling wretches belo… Gained and gained and gained. Skene looked at his pale young wif…
All the bells were ringing And all the birds were singing, When Molly sat down crying For her broken doll: O you silly Moll!