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

The Human Temple

The Temple in Darkness

Darkness broods upon the temple,
Glooms along the lonely aisles,
Fills up all the orient window,
Whence, like little children’s wiles,
Shadows—purple, azure, golden—
Broke upon the floor in smiles.

[Hata Bildir]