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Let bygones be bygones.

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
Bygones
Forgiveness

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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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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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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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Spring is when life's alive in everything.
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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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Spring bursts today, For love is risen and all the earth's at play.
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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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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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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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All earth's full rivers can not fillThe sea that drinking thirsteth still.
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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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When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me
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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
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A pin has a head, but has no hair
Christina Rossetti
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And may you happy live, And long us bless.
Christina Rossetti
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Tread softly! All the earth is holy ground.
Christina Rossetti
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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?
Christina Rossetti
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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.
Christina Rossetti
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My heart is breaking for a little love
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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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