#English #Victorians #Women #XIXCentury
This Advent moon shines cold and… These Advent nights are long; Our lamps have burned year after y… And still their flame is strong. ‘Watchman, what of the night?’ we…
‘While I sit at the door Sick to gaze within Mine eye weepeth sore For sorrow and sin: As a tree my sin stands
I bore with thee long weary days a… Through many pangs of heart, throu… I bore with thee, thy hardness, co… For three and thirty years. Who else had dared for thee what…
If hope grew on a bush, And joy grew on a tree, What a nosegay for the plucking There would be! But oh! in windy autumn,
Hear what the mournful linnets say… ‘We built our nest compact and war… But cruel boys came round our way And took our summerhouse by storm. ‘They crushed the eggs so neatly l…
It is a land with neither night no… Nor heat nor cold, nor any wind, n… Nor hills nor valleys; but one eve… Stretches thro’ long unbroken mile… While thro’ the sluggish air a twi…
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…
If the moon came from heaven, Talking all the way, What could she have to tell us, And what could she say? ‘I’ve seen a hundred pretty things…
I have a little husband And he is gone to sea, The winds that whistle round his s… Fly home to me. The winds that sigh about me
I wish you were a pleasant wren, And I your small accepted mate; How we’d look down on toilsome men… We’d rise and go to bed at eight Or it may be not quite so late.
“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…
The splendour of the kindling day, The splendor of the setting sun, These move my soul to wend its way… And have done With all we grasp and toil amongst…
O Lady Moon, your horns point tow… Shine, be increased; O Lady Moon, your horns point tow… Wane, be at rest.
Three little children On the wide wide earth, Motherless children— Cared for from their birth By tender angels.
‘A cup for hope!’ she said, In springtime ere the bloom was ol… The crimson wine was poor and cold By her mouth’s richer red. ‘A cup for love!’ how low,
