#EnglishWriters #FemaleWriters #VictorianWriters
She gave up beauty in her tender y… Gave all her hope and joy and plea… She covered up her eyes lest they… On vanity, and chose the bitter tr… Harsh towards herself, towards oth…
I plucked pink blossoms from mine… And wore them all that evening in… Then in due season when I went to… I found no apples there. With dangling basket all along the…
The days are clear, Day after day, When April’s here, That leads to May, And June
Who has seen the wind? Neither I nor you: But when the leaves hang trembling… The wind is passing through. Who has seen the wind?
Young Love lies sleeping In May—time of the year, Among the lilies, Lapped in the tender light: White lambs come grazing,
A night was near, a day was near, Between a day and night I heard sweet voices calling clear… Calling me: I heard a whirr of wing on wing,
If I might only love my God and d… But now He bids me love Him and l… Now when the bloom of all my life… The pleasant half of life has quit… My tree of hope is lopped that spr…
Life is not sweet. One day it wil… To shut our eyes and die: Nor feel the wild flowers blow, no… With flitting butterfly, Nor grass grow long above our head…
I would not if I could undo my pa… Tho’ for its sake my future is a b… My past, for which I have myself… For all its faults and follies fir… I would not cast anew the lot once…
But give me holly, bold and jolly, Honest, prickly, shining holly; Pluck me holly leaf and berry For the day when I make merry
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,
If he would come to—day, to—day, t… O, what a day to—day would be! But now he’s away, miles and miles… From me across the sea. O little bird, flying, flying, fly…
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…
I know a baby, such a baby, — Round blue eyes and cheeks of pink… Such an elbow furrowed with dimple… Such a wrist where creases sink. ‘Cuddle and love me, cuddle and lo…
Lord Jesus, who would think that… Ah, who would think Who sees me ready to turn back or… That Thou art mine? I cannot hold Thee fast though Th…
