#English #Victorians #Women #XIXCentury
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.’—
O Christ, the Vine with living F… The twelvefold—fruited Tree of Li… The Balm in Gilead after strife, The valley Lily and the Rose; Stronger than Lebanon, Thou Root…
The hope I dreamed of was a dream… Was but a dream; and now I wake, Exceeding comfortless, and worn, a… For a dream’s sake. I hang my harp upon a tree,
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…
Our little baby fell asleep, And may not wake again For days and days, and weeks and w… But then he’ll wake again, And come with his own pretty look,
Oh, fair to see Blossom—laden cherry tree, Arrayed in sunny white; An April day’s delight, Oh, fair to see!
New Year met me somewhat sad: Old Year leaves me tired, Stripped of favourite things I ha… Baulked of much desired: Yet farther on my road to—day
Rushes in a watery place, And reeds in a hollow; A soaring skylark in the sky, A darting swallow; And where pale blossom used to han…
What will you give me for my pound… Full twenty shillings round. What will you give me for my shill… Twelve pence to give I’m willing. What will you give me for my penny…
When the cows come home the milk i… Honey’s made while the bees are hu… Duck and drake on the rushy lake, And the deer live safe in the bree… And timid, funny, brisk little bun…
She gave up beauty in her tender y… Gave all her hope and joy and plea… She covered up her eyes lest they… On vanity, and chose the bitter tr… Harsh towards herself, towards oth…
Two days ago with dancing glancing… With living lips and eyes: Now pale, dumb, blind, she lies; So pale, yet still so fair. We have not left her yet, not yet…
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—
Three plum buns To eat here at the stile In the clover meadow, For we have walked a mile. One for you, and one for me,
Clever little Willie wee, Bright—eyed, blue—eyed little fell… Merry little Margery With her hair all yellow. Little Willie in his heart
