Christina Georgina Rossetti

[Christina Rossetti] (5 December 1830 – 29 December 1894 / London)

Christina Georgina Rossetti Poems

81. Come Unto Me 4/1/2010
82. Conference Between Christ, The Saints, And The Soul 4/1/2010
83. Consider 4/1/2010
84. Consider The Lilies Of The Field 4/1/2010
85. Cousin Kate 1/3/2003
86. Crimson Curtains Round My Mother's Bed 4/1/2010
87. Crying, My Little One, Footsore And Weary? 4/1/2010
88. Currants On A Bush 4/1/2010
89. Dancing On The Hill-Tops 4/1/2010
90. De Profundis 12/31/2002
91. Dead Before Death 4/1/2010
92. Dead Hope 4/1/2010
93. Dead In The Cold, A Song-Singing Thrush 4/1/2010
94. Death’s Chill Between 4/1/2010
95. Despised And Rejected 4/1/2010
96. Ding A Ding 4/1/2010
97. Dost Thou Not Care? 4/1/2010
98. Dream Land 12/31/2002
99. Dream-Love 4/1/2010
100. Easter Even 4/1/2010
101. Echo 1/3/2003
102. Eight O'Clock 4/1/2010
103. Endure Hardness 4/1/2010
104. Eve 4/1/2010
105. Fata Morgana 4/1/2010
106. Ferry Me Across The Water 4/1/2010
107. Fluttered Wings 1/1/2004
108. Fly Away, Fly Away Over The Sea 4/1/2010
109. From “later Life” 1/1/2004
110. From House To House 4/1/2010
111. From Sunset To Star Rise 1/3/2003
112. From The Antique 1/3/2003
113. Give Me Holly 4/1/2010
114. Goblin Market 12/31/2002
115. Gone For Ever 4/1/2010
116. Good Friday 4/1/2010
117. Goodbye In Fear, Goodbye In Sorrow, 4/1/2010
118. Growing In The Vale 4/1/2010
119. Grown And Flown 4/1/2010
120. Hear What The Mournful Linnets Say 4/1/2010
Best Poem of Christina Georgina Rossetti

Remember

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann'd:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far ...

Read the full of Remember

Sappho

I sigh at day-dawn, and I sigh
When the dull day is passing by.
I sigh at evening, and again
I sigh when night brings sleep to men.
Oh! it were far better to die
Than thus forever mourn and sigh,
And in death's dreamless sleep to be
Unconscious that none weep for me;
Eased from my weight of heaviness,

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