The Moat House (Edith Nesbit Poems)
PART I IUNDER the shade of convent towers, Where fast and vigil mark the hours, From childhood ...
PART I IUNDER the shade of convent towers, Where fast and vigil mark the hours, From childhood ...
THE spring is here, and the long nights grow Less bitterly cold than awhile ago; Our rags serve their purpose ...
In answer to those who have said that English Poetsgive no personal love to their country.ENGLAND, my country, austere in ...
I was picking raspberries, my head was in the canes,And he came behind and kissed me, and I smacked him ...
Young and a conqueror, once on a day,Wild white Winter rode out this way;With his sword of ice and his ...
MY beautiful beech, your smooth grey coat is trimmedWith letters. Once, each stood for all things dearTo foolish lovers, dead ...
A PRINCESS, sleeping in enchanted bowers, Earth springs to waking at Spring's voice and kiss, And after winter's ...
JUST a whisper, half-heard, But our heart knows the word; Caresses that seem Like love's lips in a dream; ...
SLEEP first, And let the storm and winter do their worst; Let all the garden lie ...
MY hollyhocks are all awake, And not a single rose is lost; My wallflowers, for dear pity's sake, ...
HERE'S the Spring-time, Sweet! Earth's green gown is new, Lambs begin to bleat, Doves begin to ...
IThere was never winter, summer only: roses,Pink and white and red,Shining down the warm rich garden closes;Quiet trees and lawns ...
THROUGH the wood, the green wood, the wet wood, the light wood, Love and I went maying a ...
Under the shadow of a hawthorn brake,Where bluebells draw the sky down to the wood,Where, 'mid brown leaves, the primroses ...
NOW that the curtains are drawn close Now that the fire burns low, And on her ...
Hold your hands to the blaze;Winter is hereWith the short cold days,Bleak, keen and drear.Was there ever a dayWith hawthorn ...
1 The garden mould was damp and chill, 2 Winter had had his brutal will 3 Since over all the ...
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