#English #Victorians #Women #XIXCentury
Eight o’clock; The postman’s knock! Five letters for Papa; One for Lou, And none for you,
How many seconds in a minute? Sixty, and no more in it. How many minutes in an hour? Sixty for sun and shower. How many hours in a day?
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…
Blind from my birth, Where flowers are springing I sit on earth All dark. Hark! hark!
Go from me, summer friends, and ta… I am no summer friend, but wintry… A silly sheep benighted from the f… A sluggard with a thorn—choked gar… Take counsel, sever from my lot yo…
None other Lamb, none other Name, None other hope in Heav’n or eart… None other hiding place from guilt… None beside Thee! My faith burns low, my hope burns…
“Goodbye in fear, goodbye in sorro… Goodbye, and all in vain, Never to meet again, my dear—” “Never to part again.” “Goodbye today, goodbye tomorrow,
A frisky lamb And a frisky child Playing their pranks In a cowslip meadow: The sky all blue
Did any bird come flying After Adam and Eve, When the door was shut against the… And they sat down to grieve? I think not Eve’s peacock
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,
Two gaz’d into a pool, he gaz’d an… Not hand in hand, yet heart in hea… Pale and reluctant on the water’s… AS on the brink of parting which… Each eyed the other’s aspect, she…
Strike the bells wantonly, Tinkle tinkle well; Bring me wine, bring me flowers, Ring the silver bell. All my lamps burn scented oil,
You must not call me Maggie, you… For I’m Lady of the Manor now st… And if there comes a babe, as ther… 'Twill be little lord or lady at m… Oh, but what ails you, my sailor c…
A fool I was to sleep at noon, And wake when night is chilly Beneath the comfortless cold moon; A fool to pluck my rose too soon, A fool to snap my lily.
Out of the church she followed the… With a lofty step and mien: His bride was like a village maid, Maude Clare was like a queen. “Son Thomas, ” his lady mother sa…