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Christina Georgina Rossetti

Christina Georgina Rossetti

Three Little Children

Three little children
On the wide wide earth,
Motherless children—
Cared for from their birth
By tender angels.
Three little children
On the wide wide sea,
Motherless children—
Safe as safe can be
With guardian angels.

Autres oeuvres par Christina Georgina Rossetti...
The Lily Has an Air

The lily has an air, And the snowdrop a grace, And the sweetpea a way, And the heartsease a face, — Yet there’s nothing like the rose
Seasons

Oh the cheerful Budding—time! When thorn—hedges turn to green, When new leaves of elm and lime Cleave and shed their winter scree… Tender lambs are born and ‘baa,’
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Clever Little Willie Wee

Clever little Willie wee, Bright—eyed, blue—eyed little fell… Merry little Margery With her hair all yellow. Little Willie in his heart
The Wind Has Such a Rainy Sound

The wind has such a rainy sound Moaning through the town, The sea has such a windy sound, — Will the ships go down? The apples in the orchard
Sappho

I sigh at day-dawn, and I sigh When the dull day is passing by. I sigh at evening, and again I sigh when night brings sleep to… Oh! it were far better to die
 1
By the Waters of Babylon

Here where I dwell I waste to ski… The curse is come upon me, and I… In penal torment powerless to aton… The curse is come on me, which mak… And doth not tarry, crushing both…
The Horses of the Sea

The horses of the sea Rear a foaming crest, But the horses of the land Serve us the best. The horses of the land
Long Barren

Thou who didst hang upon a barren… My God, for me; Though I till now be barren, now… Lord, give me strength To bring forth fruit to Thee.
By the Sea

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…
In Progress

Ten years ago it seemed impossible That she should ever grow so calm… With self—remembrance in her warme… And dim dried eyes like an exhaust… Slow—speaking when she had some fa…
Under the Ivy Bush

Under the ivy bush One sits sighing, And under the willow tree One sits crying: — Under the ivy bush
Bird Raptures

The sunrise wakes the lark to sing… The moonrise wakes the nightingale… Come darkness, moonrise, everythin… That is so silent, sweet, and pale… Come, so ye wake the nightingale.
Why Did Baby Die?

Why did baby die, Making Father sigh, Mother cry? Flowers, that bloom to die, Make no reply
Within the Veil

She holds a lily in her hand, Where long ranks of Angels stand, A silver lily for her wand. All her hair falls sweeping down; Her hair that is a golden brown,
Weary in Well-Doing

I would have gone; God bade me st… I would have worked; God bade me… He broke my will from day to day, He read my yearnings unexpressed And said them nay.



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