Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

(20 April 1826 - 12 October 1887 / Stoke-on-Trent / England)

Dinah Maria Mulock Craik Poems

1. October 4/13/2010
2. Violets 4/13/2010
3. The Mother’s Visit 4/13/2010
4. Passion Past 4/13/2010
5. Her Likeness 4/13/2010
6. Westward Ho! 4/13/2010
7. Year After Year: A Love Song. 4/13/2010
8. The Human Temple 1/1/2004
9. Until Her Death 4/13/2010
10. Too Late 4/13/2010
11. Too Late 4/13/2010
12. The Wren’s Nest 4/13/2010
13. Looking Death In The Face 4/13/2010
14. The Wind At Night 4/13/2010
15. Her Likeness 4/13/2010
16. To A Beautiful Woman 4/13/2010
17. When Green Leaves Come Again 4/13/2010
18. Eudoxia. Third Picture 4/13/2010
19. Constancy In Inconstancy 4/13/2010
20. After Sunset 4/13/2010
21. An Honest Valentine 4/13/2010
22. Buried To-Day 4/13/2010
23. By The Alma River 4/13/2010
24. The Unknown Country 4/13/2010
25. The Voice Calling 4/13/2010
26. The Golden Island: Arran From Ayr 4/13/2010
27. The Planting 4/13/2010
28. The First Waits 4/13/2010
29. Over The Hillside 4/13/2010
30. Sitting On The Shore 4/13/2010
31. One Summer Morning 4/13/2010
32. A Word In Season 4/13/2010
33. An Aurora Borealis 4/13/2010
34. An Evening Guest 4/13/2010
35. Cathair Fhargus 4/13/2010
36. Benedetta Minelli 4/13/2010
37. Between Two Worlds 4/13/2010
38. Four Years 4/13/2010
39. In Our Boat 4/13/2010
40. Sunday Morning Bells 4/13/2010
Best Poem of Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

Only A Woman

"She loves with love that cannot tire:
And if, ah, woe! she loves alone,
Through passionate duty love flames higher,
As grass grows taller round a stone."
Coventry Patmore.
SO, the truth's out. I 'll grasp it like a snake, --
It will not slay me. My heart shall not break
Awhile, if only for the children's sake.
For his too, somewhat. Let him stand unblamed;
None say, he gave me less than honor claimed,
Except -- one trifle scarcely worth being named --
The heart. That 's gone. The corrupt dead might be
As easily raised...

Read the full of Only A Woman

A Lancashire Doxology

"PRAISE God from whom all blessings flow."
Praise Him who sendeth joy and woe.
The Lord who takes, -- the Lord who gives, --
O praise Him, all that dies, and lives.
He opens and He shuts his hand,
But why, we cannot understand:
Pours and dries up his mercies' flood,
And yet is still All-perfect Good.
We fathom not the mighty plan,

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