Quote

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

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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
Earth
Sea
Evermore
Still
Ocean
Boundary
Full
Shore
Heaven
Shut
Makes
Fill
Cannot
Boundaries
Stills
Rivers
Frets
Doe
Drinking
Moan

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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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Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end.
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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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Christmas hath a beauty ... lovelier than the world can show.
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Hurt no living thing: Ladybird, nor butterfly, Nor moth with dusty wing.
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And may you happy live, And long us bless.
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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 lilies say: Behold how we Preach without words of purity.
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The downhill path is easy, but there's no turning back.
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When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me
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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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For there is no friend like a sister in calm or stormy weather To cheer one on the tedious way, to fetch one if one goes astray, to lift one if one totters down, to strengthen whilst one stands.
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Love shall be our token love be yours and love be mine.
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Spring is when life's alive in everything.
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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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Choose love not in the shallows but in the deep.
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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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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.
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For there is no friend like a sister in calm or stormy weather.
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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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