Quote

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.

Christina Rossetti

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

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
Singing
Nests
Whose
Apple
Tree
Bent
Water
Apples
Heart
Thick
Like
Shoot
Pomegranates
Fruit
Boughs
Bird
Nest

More quotes by Christina Rossetti

Image
Faith is like a lily, lifted high and white.
Christina Rossetti
Image
Let bygones be bygones.
Christina Rossetti
Image
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
Christina Rossetti
Image
Where innocent bright-eyes daisies are With blades of grass between, Each daisy stands up like a star Out of a sky of green.
Christina Rossetti
Image
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.
Christina Rossetti
Image
The rose saith in the dewy morn, I am most fair Yet all my loveliness is born Upon a thorn.
Christina Rossetti
Image
Love came down at Christmas, Love all lovely, Love Divine Love was born at Christmas Star and angels gave the sign.
Christina Rossetti
Image
O Lord, who art our guide even unto death, grant us, I pray Thee, grace to follow Thee whithersoever Thou goest. In little daily duties to which Thou callest us, bow down our wills to simple obedience.
Christina Rossetti
Image
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.
Christina Rossetti
Image
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.
Christina Rossetti
Image
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.
Christina Rossetti
Image
Can anything be sadder than work left unfinished? Yes, work never begun.
Christina Rossetti
Image
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.
Christina Rossetti
Image
I might show facts as plain as day: but, since your eyes are blind, you'd say, 'Where? What?' and turn away.
Christina Rossetti
Image
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.
Christina Rossetti
Image
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.
Christina Rossetti
Image
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.
Christina Rossetti
Image
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.
Christina Rossetti
Image
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.
Christina Rossetti
Image
Spring bursts today, For love is risen and all the earth's at play.
Christina Rossetti