#English #Victorians #Women #XIXCentury
Oh, fair to see Blossom—laden cherry tree, Arrayed in sunny white; An April day’s delight, Oh, fair to see!
It’s a weary life, it is, she said… Doubly blank in a woman’s lot: I wish and I wish I were a man: Or, better then any being, were no… Were nothing at all in all the wor…
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…
My baby has a father and a mother, Rich little baby! Fatherless, motherless, I know an… Forlorn as may be: Poor little baby!
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.
One face looks out from all his ca… One selfsame figure sits or walks… We found her hidden just behind th… That mirror gave back all her love… A queen in opal or in ruby dress,
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,
Chide not; let me breathe a little… For I shall not mourn him long; Though the life—cord was so brittl… The love—cord was very strong. I would wake a little space
A hundred, a thousand to one; even… Not a hope in the world remained: The swarming howling wretches belo… Gained and gained and gained. Skene looked at his pale young wif…
The rose that blushes rosy red, She must hang her head; The lily that blows spotless white… She may stand upright.
I took my heart in my hand (O my love, O my love), I said: Let me fall or stand, Let me live or die, But this once hear me speak—
“Oh where are you going with your… On the west wind blowing along thi… “The downhill path is easy, come w… We shall escape the uphill by neve… So they two went together in glowi…
A ring upon her finger, Walks the bride, With the bridegroom tall and hands… At her side. A veil upon her forehead
As eager homebound traveller to th… Or steadfast seeker on an unsearch… Or martyr panting for an aureole, My fellow—pilgrims pass me, and at… That hidden mansion of perpetual p…
Oh happy happy land! Angels like rushes stand About the wells of light.'— ‘Alas, I have not eyes for this f… Hold fast my hand.’—
