#English #Victorians #Women #XIXCentury
Before the winter morn, Before the earliest cock crow, Jesus Christ was born: Born in a stable, Cradled in a manger,
There is but one May in the year, And sometimes May is wet and cold… There is but one May in the year Before the year grows old. Yet though it be the chilliest Ma…
Underneath the growing grass, Underneath the living flowers, Deeper than the sound of showers: There we shall not count the hours By the shadows as they pass.
Minnie and Mattie And fat little May, Out in the country, Spending a day. Such a bright day,
Boats sail on the rivers, And ships sail on the seas; But clouds that sail across the sk… Are prettier far than these. There are bridges on the rivers,
I dug and dug amongst the snow, And thought the flowers would neve… I dug and dug amongst the sand, And still no green thing came to h… Melt, O snow! the warm winds blow
Wrens and robins in the hedge, Wrens and robins here and there; Building, perching, pecking, flutt… Everywhere! C
A city plum is not a plum; A dumb—bell is no bell, though dum… A party rat is not a rat; A sailor’s cat is not a cat; A soldier’s frog is not a frog;
Hope new born one pleasant morn Died at even; Hope dead lives nevermore. No, not in heaven. If his shroud were but a cloud
I tell my secret? No indeed, not… Perhaps some day, who knows? But not today; it froze, and blows… And you’re too curious: fie! You want to hear it? well:
What would I give for a heart of… Instead of this heart of stone ice… Hard and cold and small, of all he… What would I give for words, if o… But now in its misery my spirit ha…
Oh, pleasant eventide! Clouds on the western side Grow grey and greyer, hiding the w… The bees and birds, their happy la… Seek their close nests and bide.
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.
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
I have but one rose in the world, And my one rose stands a—drooping: Oh, when my single rose is dead There’ll be but thorns for stoopin…
