#English #Women #XIXCentury #XXCentury
Toll no bell for me, dear Father… Waste no sighs; There are my sisters, there is my… Who plays in the place called Par… Your children all, your children f…
His heart to me, was a place of pa… I saw it then as we see things in… I remember the tress, and the high… towers; The walls are standing to-day, and…
Bury your heart in some deep green… Or hide it up in a kind old tree; Better still, give it the swallow When she goes over the sea. In Saturday’s Market there’s eggs…
We passed each other, turned and s… I who make other women smile did n… But no man can move mountains in a… So this hard thing is yet to do. But first I want your life:—befor…
Do you remember the two old people… on the road to Kerity, Resting their sack on the stones,… Looking at us with their lightless… through the driving rain, and then…
From our low seat beside the fire Where we have dozed and dreamed, a… Or raked the ashes, stooping so We scarcely saw the sun and rain Through the small curtained window…
From our low seat beside the fire Where we have dozed and dreamed an… Or raked the ashes, stopping so We scarcely saw the sun or rain Above, or looked much higher
Sometimes I know the way You walk, up over the bay; It is a wind from that far sea That blows the fragrance of your h… Or in this garden when the breeze
Here, in the darkness, where this… Stands nearer than God stands to… And one small candle shines, but n… As the far lights of everlastingne… I’d rather kneel than over there,…
The town is old and very steep A place of bells and cloisters and… And black-clad people walking in t… A nun, a priest, a woman taking fl… To her new grave; and watched from…
To-night again the moon’s white ma… Stretches across the dormitory flo… While outside, like an evil cat The pion prowls down the dark corr… Planning, I know, to pounce on me…
Up here, with June, the sycamore… Across the window a whispering scr… I shall miss the sycamore more I… Than anything else on this earth t… But I mean to go through the door…
Not for that city of the level sun… Its golden streets and glittering… The shadeless, sleepless city of w… White nights, or nights and days t… We weary, when all is said, all th…
Down the long quay the slow boats… While here and there a house looms… Against the gloom of the waterside… And some high window throws a ligh… As they sail out into the night.
Who thinks of June’s first rose t… Only some child, perhaps, with shi… rough bright hair will reach it do… In a green sunny lane, to us almos… As are the fearless stars from the…