Christina Georgina Rossetti Poems

Crying, my little one, footsore and weary?
Fall asleep, pretty one, warm on my shoulder:
I must tramp on through the winter night dreary,
...

The city mouse lives in a house; -
The garden mouse lives in a bower,
He's friendly with the frogs and toads,
...

Love, strong as Death, is dead.
Come, let us make his bed
Among the dying flowers:
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‘Ferry me across the water,
Do, boatman, do.’
‘If you've a penny in your purse
I'll ferry you.’
...

January cold desolate;
February all dripping wet;
March wind ranges;
April changes;
...

Winter is cold-hearted
Spring is yea and nay,
Autumn is a weather-cock
Blown every way:
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She sat alway thro' the long day
Spinning the weary thread away;
And ever said in undertone:
'Come, that I be no more alone.'
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O Christ, the Vine with living Fruit,
The twelvefold-fruited Tree of Life,
The Balm in Gilead after strife,
...

On the wind of January
Down flits the snow,
Travelling from the frozen North
As cold as it can blow.
...

'Oh, sad thy lot before I came,
But sadder when I go;
My presence but a flash of flame,
...