Poetry Screen Saver - Quotes

Christina Rossetti ( 1830-1894 )

O Happy rosebud blooming
Upon thy parent tree,
Nay, thou art too presuming
For soon the earth entombing
Thy faded charms shall be,
And the chill damp consuming.
On the wind of January
Down flits the snow,
Travelling from the frozen North
As cold as it can blow.
Where sunless rivers weep
Their waves into the deep,
She sleeps a charmed sleep:
Awake her not.
I loved my love from green of Spring
Until sere Autumn's fall;
But now that leaves are withering
How should one love at all?
I tell my secret? No indeed, not I
Perhaps some day, who knows?
But not to-day; it froze, and blows, and snows,
And you're too curious: fie!
You want to hear it? well:
Only, my secret's mine, and I won't tell.
I sat beneath a willow tree,
Where water falls and calls;
While fancies upon fancies solaced me,
Some true, and some were false.
Summer is gone with all its roses,
Its sun and perfumes and sweet flowers,
Its warm air and refreshing showers:
And even Autumn closes.
Underneath the growing grass,
Underneath the living flowers,
Deeper than the sound of showers:
There we shall not count the hours
By the shadow as they pass.