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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
Came
Angels
Stars
Christmas
Born
Sign
Love
Lovely
Angel
Nativity
Star
Xmas
Gave
Festive
Divine
Ornaments

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Rest, rest at the heart's core . . . till joy shall overtake.
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My heart is breaking for a little love
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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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My heart is like a singing bird Whose nest is in a water'd shoot My heart is like an apple-tree Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit.
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For I am bound with fleshly bands, Joy, beauty, lie beyond my scope I strain my heart, I stretch my hands, And catch at hope.
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For there is no friend like a sister in calm or stormy weather.
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A pin has a head, but has no hair
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Because the birthday of my life Is come, my love is come to me.
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And may you happy live, And long us bless.
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Faith is like a lily, lifted high and white.
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Come to me in the silence of the night, Come to me in the speaking silence of a dream. Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright as sunlight on a stream. Come back in tears, O memory, hope, love of finished years.
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Where innocent bright-eyes daisies are With blades of grass between, Each daisy stands up like a star Out of a sky of green.
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The downhill path is easy, but there's no turning back.
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Ah me, but where are now the songs I sang When life was sweet because you call’d them sweet?
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Christmas hath a beauty ... lovelier than the world can show.
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Oh that it were with me As with the flower Blooming on its own tree For butterfly and bee Its summer morns: That I might bloom mine hour A rose in spite of thorns. Oh that my work were done As birds' that soar Rejoicing in the sun: That when my time is run And daylight too, I so might rest once more Cool with refreshing dew.
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Why one day in the country Is worth a month in town Is worth a day and a year Of the dusty, musty, lag-last fashion That days drone elsewhere.
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What is green? The grass is green, With small flowers between. What is violet? Clouds are violet In the summer twilight. What is orange? Why, an orange, Just an orange!
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Hope is like a harebell, trembling from its birth,Love is like a rose, the joy of all the earth,Faith is like a lily, lifted high and white,Love is like a lovely rose, the world's delight.Harebells and sweet lilies show a thornless growth,But the rose with all its thorns excels them both.
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Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end.
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