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Christina Rossetti: I Know You Not

I Know You Not1864O Christ, the Vine with living Fruit, The twelvefold-fruited Tree of Life, The Balm in Gilead after strife, The valley Lily and the Rose; Stronger than Lebanon, Thou Root;…

Christina Rossetti: Jessie Cameron

Jessie Cameron'Jessie, Jessie Cameron, Hear me but this once,' quoth he. 'Good luck go with you, neighbor's son, But I'm no mate for you,' quoth she. Day was verging toward the night…

Christina Rossetti: Lady Maggie

Lady MaggieYou must not call me Maggie, you must not call me Dear, For I'm Lady of the Manor now stately to see; And if there comes a babe, as there may some happy year, 'Twill be little…

Christina Rossetti: Last Night

Last NightMay 1865Where were you last night? I watched at the gate; I went down early, I stayed down late. Were you snug at home, I should like to know, Or were you in the coppice wheedling…

Christina Rossetti: Life and Death

Life and DeathLife is not sweet. One day it will be sweet To shut our eyes and die: Nor feel the wild flowers blow, nor birds dart by With flitting butterfly, Nor grass grow long above…

Christina Rossetti: Light Love

Light Love'Oh, sad thy lot before I came, But sadder when I go; My presence but a flash of flame, A transitory glow Between two barren wastes like snow. What wilt thou do when I am gone…

Christina Rossetti: Long Barren

Long BarrenThou who didst hang upon a barren tree, My God, for me; Though I till now be barren, now at length Lord, give me strength To bring forth fruit to Thee.Thou who didst bear for…

Christina Rossetti: Maiden-Song

Maiden-SongLong ago and long ago, And long ago still, There dwelt three merry maidens Upon a distant hill. One was tall Meggan, And one was dainty May, But one was fair Margaret, More…

Christina Rossetti: Martyrs' Song

Martyrs' SongWe meet in joy, though we part in sorrow; We part to-night, but we meet to-morrow. Be it flood or blood the path that's trod, All the same it leads home to God: Be it furnace-…

Christina Rossetti: Maude Clare

Maude ClareOut of the church she followed them With a lofty step and mien: His bride was like a village maid, Maude Clare was like a queen.'Son Thomas,' his lady mother said, With…