Quote

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.

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
Doors
Fill
Full
Powers
Open
Receive
Spirit
Thee
Light
Wide
Adoration
May
Hearts
Entertain
Heart
Door
Windows
Window
Spirits

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And may you happy live, And long us bless.
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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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The Bourne Underneath the growing grass, Underneath the living flowers, Deeper than the sound of showers: There we shall not count the hours By the shadows as they pass. Youth and health will be but vain, Beauty reckoned of no worth: There a very little girth Can hold round what once the earth Seemed too narrow to contain.
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To her whose heart is my heart's quiet home, To my first Love, my Mother, on whose knee I learnt love-lore that is not troublesome.
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The downhill path is easy, but there's no turning back.
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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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To me it seems our duty towards the Bible is to obey its teaching in faith. I do not think we are bound to understand or account for all its utterances.
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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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The loves that meet in Paradise shall cast out fear, And Paradise hath room for you and me and all.
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All earth's full rivers can not fillThe sea that drinking thirsteth still.
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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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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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Christmas hath a beauty ... lovelier than the world can show.
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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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Ah me, but where are now the songs I sang When life was sweet because you call’d them sweet?
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Consider The lilies of the field whose bloom is brief:-- We are as they Like them we fade away As doth a leaf.
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Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end.
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Let bygones be bygones.
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As a tree my sin stands To darken all lands Death is the fruit it bore.
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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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