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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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Why does the sea moan evermore? Shut out from heaven it makes its moan, It frets against the boundary shore All earth's full rivers cannot fill The sea, that drinking thirsteth still.
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Not as she is, but as she fills his dream
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The lilies say: Behold how we Preach without words of purity.
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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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We must not look at goblin men, We must not buy their fruits: Who knows upon what soil they fed Their hungry thirsty roots?
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All earth's full rivers can not fillThe sea that drinking thirsteth still.
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Where are the songs I used to know, Where are the notes I used to sing? I have forgotten everything I used to know so long ago. (The Key-Note)
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The rose saith in the dewy morn, I am most fair Yet all my loveliness is born Upon a thorn.
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Spring's an expansive time: yet I don't trust March with its peck of dust, Nor April with its rainbow-crowned brief showers, Nor even May, whose flowers One frost may wither thro' the sunless hours.
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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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Spring bursts today, For love is risen and all the earth's at play.
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Let bygones be bygones.
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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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It is not the deed we do Though the deed be never so fair, But the love that the dear Lord looketh for, Hidden with lovely care In the heart of the deed so fair.
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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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And may you happy live, And long us bless.
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I have no wit, no words, no tears My heart within me like a stone Is numb'd too much for hopes or fears Look right, look left, I dwell alone I lift mine eyes, but dimm'd with grief No everlasting hills I see My life is in the falling leaf: O Jesus, quicken me.
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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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In the bleak midwinter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone Snow had fallen, Snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, Long ago.
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Choose love not in the shallows but in the deep.
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