#English #Victorians #Women
Swift and sure the swallow, Slow and sure the snail: Slow and sure may miss his way, Swift and sure may fail.
Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land… When you can no more hold me by th… Nor I half turn to go yet turning… Remember me when no more day by da…
Shall I forget on this side of th… I promise nothing: you must wait a… Patient and brave. (O my soul, watch with him and he… Shall I forget in peace of Paradi…
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!
We lack, yet cannot fix upon the l… Not this, nor that; yet somewhat,… We see the things we do not yearn… Around us: and what see we glancin… Lost hopes that leave our hearts u…
This Advent moon shines cold and… These Advent nights are long; Our lamps have burned year after y… And still their flame is strong. ‘Watchman, what of the night?’ we…
Seldom “can’t,” Seldom “don’t”; Never “shan’t,” Never “won’t.”
Sleep, little Baby, sleep, The holy Angels love thee, And guard thy bed, and keep A blessed watch above thee. No spirit can come near
The summer nights are short Where northern days are long: For hours and hours lark after lar… Trills out his song. The summer days are short
O Lady Moon, your horns point tow… Shine, be increased; O Lady Moon, your horns point tow… Wane, be at rest.
One face looks out from all his ca… One selfsame figure sits or walks… We found her hidden just behind th… That mirror gave back all her love… A queen in opal or in ruby dress,
Love me —I love you, Love me, my baby; Sing it high, sing it low, Sing it as may be. Mother’s arms under you,
Maiden May sat in her bower, In her blush rose bower in flower, Sweet of scent; Sat and dreamed away an hour, Half content, half uncontent.
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…
Jess and Jill are pretty girls, Plump and well to do, In a cloud of windy curls: Yet I know who Loves me more than curls or pearls…
