#EnglishWriters #FemaleWriters #VictorianWriters #RhymedStanza
Some are laughing, some are weepin… She is sleeping, only sleeping. Round her rest wild flowers are cr… There the wind is heaping, heaping Sweetest sweets of Summer’s keepi…
She stares the livelong day; Her wig of gold is stiff and cold And cannot change to grey.
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
In the meadow —what in the meadow? Bluebells, buttercups, meadowsweet… And fairy rings for the children’s… In the meadow. In the garden —what in the garden?
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…
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,
I loved you first: but afterwards… Outsoaring mine, sang such a lofti… As drowned the friendly cooings of… Which owes the other most? my love… And yours one moment seemed to wax…
There’s blood between us, love, my… There’s father’s blood, there’s br… And blood’s a bar I cannot pass. I choose the stairs that mount abo… Stair after golden sky—ward stair,
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…
The hope I dreamed of was a dream… Was but a dream; and now I wake, Exceeding comfortless, and worn, a… For a dream’s sake. I hang my harp upon a tree,
Fly away, fly away over the sea, Sun—loving swallow, for summer is… Come again, come again, come back… Bringing the summer and bringing t…
Passing away, saith the World, pa… Chances, beauty and youth, sapp’d… Thy life never continueth in one s… Is the eye waxen dim, is the dark… That hath won neither laurel nor b…
My heart is like a singing bird Whose nest is in a water’d shoot; My heart is like an apple-tree Whose boughs are bent with thickse… My heart is like a rainbow shell
The irresponsive silence of the la… The irresponsive sounding of the s… Speak both one message of one sens… Aloof, aloof, we stand aloof, so s… Thou too aloof bound with the flaw…
Rosy maiden Winifred, With a milkpail on her head, Tripping through the corn, While the dew lies on the wheat In the sunny morn.