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Love came down at Christmas, Love all lovely, Love Divine Love was born at Christmas Star and angels gave the sign.

Christina Rossetti

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Christina Rossetti
Age: 64 †
Born: 1830
Born: December 5
Died: 1894
Died: December 29
Hymnwriter
Poet
Writer
London
England
Christina Georgina Rossetti
Christina G. Rossetti
Born
Sign
Love
Lovely
Angel
Nativity
Star
Xmas
Gave
Festive
Divine
Ornaments
Came
Angels
Stars
Christmas

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I watched a rose-bud very long Brought on by dew and sun and shower, Waiting to see the perfect flower: Then when I thought it should be strong It opened at the matin hour And fell at even-song.
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Open wide the windows of our spirits and fill us full of light open wide the door of our hearts, that we may receive and entertain Thee with all our powers of adoration.
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Yet if you should forget me for a while And afterwards remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave A vestige of the thoughts that once I had, Better by far you should forget and smile Than that you should remember and be sad.
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Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end.
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A pin has a head, but has no hair
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Faith is like a lily, lifted high and white.
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Christmas hath a beauty ... lovelier than the world can show.
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Oh roses for the flush of youth, And laurel for the perfect prime But pluck an ivy branch for me Grown old before my time.
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She cried, Laura, up the garden, Did you miss me? Come and kiss me. Never mind my bruises, Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices Squeezed from goblin fruits for you, Goblin pulp and goblin dew. Eat me, drink me, love me Laura, make much of me For your sake I have braved the glen And had to do with goblin merchant men.
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As a tree my sin stands To darken all lands Death is the fruit it bore.
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The loves that meet in Paradise shall cast out fear, And Paradise hath room for you and me and all.
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Choose love not in the shallows but in the deep.
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Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I but when the trees bow down their heads, the wind is passing by.
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Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live My very life again though cold in death Come back to me in dreams, that I may give Pulse for pulse, breath for breath: Speak low, lean low, As long ago, my love, how long ago
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I wish I could remember the first day, First hour, first moment of your meeting me If bright or dim the season it might be Summer or winter for aught I can say. So, unrecorded did it slip away, So blind was i to see and to forsee, So dull to mark the budding of my tree That would not blossom, yet, for many a May.
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Hurt no living thing: Ladybird, nor butterfly, Nor moth with dusty wing.
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I might show facts as plain as day: but, since your eyes are blind, you'd say, 'Where? What?' and turn away.
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Rest, rest at the heart's core . . . till joy shall overtake.
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My heart is like a singing bird.
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Christmas hath a darkness Brighter than the blazing noon Christmas hath a chillness Warmer than the heat of June, Christmas hath a beauty Lovelier than the world can show: For Christmas bringeth Jesus, Brought for us so low
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