Poet Christina Rossetti

Christina Rossetti

Christina Rossetti Poems

  • 151.  
    Many have sung of love a root of bane:
    While to my mind a root of balm it is, For love at length breeds love; sufficient bliss
  • 152.  
    I dwell alone,-I dwell alone, alone,
    Whilst full my river flows down to the sea, Gilded with flashing boats
  • 153.  
    Keep love for youth, and violets for the spring:
    Or if these bloom when worn-out autumn grieves, Let them lie hid in double shade of leaves,
  • 154.  
    While roses are so red,
    While lilies are so white,Shall a woman exalt her face
  • 155.  
    1.

  • 156.  
    Shall Christ hang on the Cross, and we not look?
    Heaven, earth, and hell stood gazing at the first, While Christ for long-cursed man was counted cursed;
  • 157.  
    A lowly hill which overlooks a flat,
    Half sea, half country side; A flat-shored sea of low-voiced creeping tide
  • 158.  
    Did any bird come flying
    After Adam and Eve,When the door was shut against them
  • 159.  
    The sunrise wakes the lark to sing,
    The moonrise wakes the nightingale.Come darkness, moonrise, every thing
  • 160.  
    Summer is gone with all its roses,
    Its sun and perfumes and sweet flowers, Its warm air and refreshing showers:
  • 161.  
    “If you'll busk you as a bride
    And make ready,It's I will wed you with a ring,
  • 162.  
    Oh fair Milly Brandon, a young maid, a fair maid!
    All her curls are yellow and her eyes are blue,And her cheeks were rosy red till a secret care made
  • 163.  
    A dancing Bear grotesque and funny
    Earned for his master heaps of money,Gruff yet good-natured, fond of honey,
  • 164.  
    A million buds are born that never blow,
    That sweet with promise lift a pretty head To blush and wither on a barren bed
  • 165.  
    Why does the sea moan evermore?
    Shut out from heaven it makes its moan.It frets against the boundary shore;
  • 166.  
    B.C. 570.

  • 167.  
    I wish you were a pleasant wren,
    And I your small accepted mate;How we'd look down on toilsome men!
  • 168.  
    “O happy happy land!
    Angels like rushes stand About the wells of light.”-
  • 169.  
    1.

  • 170.  
    As rivers seek the sea,
    Much more deep than they,So my soul seeks thee
  • 171.  
    Consider
    The lilies of the field whose bloom is brief:- We are as they;
  • 172.  
    Flowers preach to us if we will hear:-
    The rose saith in the dewy morn,I am most fair;
  • 173.  
    A dream that waketh,
    Bubble that breaketh,Song whose burden sigheth,
  • 174.  
    Ah! changed and cold, how changed and very cold!
    With stiffened smiling lips and cold calm eyes: Changed, yet the same; much knowing, little wise;
  • 175.  
    Hope new born one pleasant morn
    Died at even;Hope dead lives nevermore,
  • 176.  
    The Spring spreads one green lap of flowers
    Which Autumn buries at the fall,No chilling showers of Autumn hours
  • 177.  
    My sun has set, I dwell
    In darkness as a dead man out of sight;And none remains, not one, that I should tell
  • 178.  
    I love and love not: Lord, it breaks my heart
    To love and not to love.Thou veiled within Thy glory, gone apart
  • 179.  
    She came among us from the South
    And made the North her home awhile Our dimness brightened in her smile,
  • 180.  
    Many a flower hath perfume for its dower,
    And many a bird a song,And harmless lambs milkwhite beside their dams
  • 181.  
    A blue-eyed phantom far before
    Is laughing, leaping toward the sun;Like lead I chase it evermore,
  • 182.  
    The splendor of the kindling day,
    The splendor of the setting sun, These move my soul to wend its way,
  • 183.  
    Wearied of sinning, wearied of repentance,
    Wearied of self, I turn, my God, to Thee;To Thee, my Judge, on Whose all-righteous sentence
  • 184.  
    Such a hubbub in the nests,
    Such a bustle and squeak!Nestlings, guiltless of a feather,
  • 185.  
    The first was like a dream through summer heat,
    The second like a tedious numbing swoon,While the half-frozen pulses lagged to beat
  • 186.  
    The buttercup is like a golden cup,
    The marigold is like a golden frill,The daisy with a golden eye looks up,
  • 187.  
    There is silence that saith, “Ah me!”
    There is silence that nothing saith; One the silence of life forlorn,
  • 188.  
    O happy rose-bud blooming
    Upon thy parent tree,-Nay, thou art too presuming;
  • 189.  
    Am I a stone and not a sheep
    That I can stand, O Christ, beneath Thy Cross, To number drop by drop Thy Blood's slow loss,
  • 190.  
    I loved my love from green of Spring
    Until sere Autumn's fall;But now that leaves are withering
  • 191.  
    “Should one of us remember,
    And one of us forget,I wish I knew what each will do-
  • 192.  
    There's no replying
    To the Wind's sighing,Telling, foretelling,
  • 193.  
    Weary and weak,-accept my weariness;
    Weary and weak and downcast in my soul,With hope growing less and less,
  • 194.  
    I am pale with sick desire,
    For my heart is far awayFrom this world's fitful fire
  • 195.  
    If I might only love my God and die!
    But now He bids me love Him and live on, Now when the bloom of all my life is gone,
  • 196.  
    -Proverbs xxiv. 11, 12.

  • 197.  
    A hundred, a thousand to one; even so;
    Not a hope in the world remained:The swarming, howling wretches below
  • 198.  
    I sat beneath a willow tree,
    Where water falls and calls;While fancies upon fancies solaced me,
  • 199.  
    Dear Lord, let me recount to Thee
    Some of the great things thou hast done For me, even me
  • 200.  
    To come back from the sweet South, to the North
    Where I was born, bred, look to die;Come back to do my day's work in its day,
Total 287 poems written by Christina Rossetti

Poem of the day

On A Fork Of Byron's
 by James Brunton Stephens

Like any other fork.'No mark you meet with
To point some psychological conceit with.
An ordinary fork. A fork to eat with.

No individuality of fashion:
No stamp of frenzy fine, or poet-passion;
An article in no respect Parnassian.

...

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