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

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

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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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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.
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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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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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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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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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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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The lilies say: Behold how we Preach without words of purity.
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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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What is the beginning? Love. What is the course. Love still. What the goal. The goal is love.
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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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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
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Ah me, but where are now the songs I sang When life was sweet because you call’d them sweet?
Christina Rossetti
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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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My heart is breaking for a little love
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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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Spring bursts today, For love is risen and all the earth's at play.
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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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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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Choose love not in the shallows but in the deep.
Christina Rossetti