Christina Rossetti

1830 - 1894

A Quote by Christina Georgina Rossetti

Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end.

Christina Rossetti (1830 - 1894)

Source: Albert W. Daw Collection

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Christina Georgina Rossetti on death, time, and youth

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. Oh violets for the grave of youth, And bay for those dead in their prime; Give me the withered leaves I chose Before in the old time.

Christina Rossetti (1830 - 1894)

Source: Song, 1849

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Christina Georgina Rossetti

Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I: But when the trees bow down their heads. The wind is passing by.

Christina Rossetti (1830 - 1894)

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Christina Georgina Rossetti on beauty, earth, health, life, worth, and youth

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.

Christina Rossetti (1830 - 1894)

Source: The Bourne

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Christina Georgina Rossetti on death, plants, and songs

When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me: Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree. Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet: And if thou wilt, remember And if thou wilt, forget.

Christina Rossetti (1830 - 1894)

Source: "Song"

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Christina Georgina Rossetti on bitterness, death, dreams, hope, life, love, memory, paradise, silence, soul, and tears

Echo Come to me in the silence of the night; Come 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. Oh dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter-sweet, Whose wakening should have been in Paradise, Where souls brim-full of love abide and meet; Where thirsting longing eyes Watch the slow door That opening, letting in, lets out no more. 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 (1830 - 1894)

Source: Echo

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Christina Georgina Rossetti

Endure Hardness A cold wind stirs the blackthorn To burgeon and to blow, Besprinkling half-green hedges With flakes and sprays of snow. Through coldness and through keenness, Dear hearts, take comfort so: Somewhere or other doubtless These make the blackthorn blow.

Christina Rossetti (1830 - 1894)

Source: Endure Hardness

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Christina Georgina Rossetti

Better by far you should forget and smile than that you should remember and be sad.

Christina Rossetti (1830 - 1894)

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Christina Georgina Rossetti on fate

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A Frog's Fate . . . . O rich and poor, O great and small, Such oversights beset us all. The mangled Frog abides incog, The uninteresting actual frog: The hypothetic frog alone Is the one frog we dwell upon.

Christina Rossetti (1830 - 1894)

Source: A Frog's Fate

Contributed by: Zaady

A Quote by Christina Georgina Rossetti on birds, birthday, gold, heart, life, love, and work

A Birthday

My heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a watered shoot;
My heart is like an apple-tree
Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit;
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these,
Because my love is come to me.
Raise me a dais of silk and down;
Hang it with vair and purple dyes;
Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Work it in gold and silver grapes,
In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;
Because the birthday of my life
Is come, my love is come to me.

Christina Rossetti (1830 - 1894)

Source: A Birthday

Contributed by: Zaady

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