Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton

(22 March 1808 – 15 June 1877 / London)

Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton Poems

81. The Captive Pirate 4/15/2010
82. The Mother’s Heart 4/15/2010
83. Sonnet Xix 4/15/2010
84. The Picture Of Sappho 4/15/2010
85. The Poplar Field 4/15/2010
86. They Loved One Another 4/15/2010
87. Description Of A Lost Friend 4/15/2010
88. May-Day, 1837 4/15/2010
89. The Chapel Royal St. James’s, On The 10th February, 1840 4/15/2010
90. Mary 4/15/2010
91. Old Friends 4/15/2010
92. The Visionary Portrait 4/15/2010
93. Picture Of Twilight 4/15/2010
94. The Boatswain’s Song 4/15/2010
95. Sonnet Vi 4/15/2010
96. On The Purple And White Carnation 4/15/2010
97. Edward 4/15/2010
98. My Native Land! 4/15/2010
99. A Destiny 4/15/2010
100. Babel 4/15/2010
101. The Faithless Knight 4/15/2010
102. An Emblem Of Life 4/15/2010
103. Dedication 4/15/2010
104. The Lament For Shuil Donald’s Daughter 4/15/2010
105. I Cannot Love Thee! 4/15/2010
106. The Cold Change 4/15/2010
107. Escape From The Snares Of Love 4/15/2010
108. My Childhood's Home 4/15/2010
109. As When From Dreams Awaking 4/15/2010
110. Dreams 4/15/2010
111. Ifs 4/15/2010
112. We Have Been Friends Together 1/1/2004
113. A Voice From The Factories 4/15/2010
114. The Arab's Farewell To His Horse 4/15/2010
115. First Love 4/15/2010
116. I Was Not False To Thee 4/15/2010
117. Love Not 1/1/2004
118. I Do Not Love Thee 1/4/2003
119. My Heart Is Like A Withered Nut! 4/15/2010
Best Poem of Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton

My Heart Is Like A Withered Nut!

MY heart is like a withered nut,
Rattling within its hollow shell;
You cannot ope my breast, and put
Any thing fresh with it to dwell.
The hopes and dreams that filled it when
Life's spring of glory met my view,
Are gone! and ne'er with joy or pain
That shrunken heart shall swell anew.

My heart is like a withered nut;
Once it was soft to every touch,
But now 'tis stern and closely shut;--
I would not have to plead with such.
Each light-toned voice once cleared my brow,
Each gentle breeze once shook the tree
Where hung the sun-lit ...

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An Emblem Of Life

Oh! Life is like the summer rill, where weary daylight dies;
We long for morn to rise again, and blush along the skies:
For dull and dark that stream appears, whose waters in the day,
All glad, in conscious sunniness, went dancing on their way.
But when the glorious sun hath 'woke, and look'd upon the earth,
And over hill and dale there float the sounds of human mirth;
We sigh to see day hath not brought its perfect light to all,
For with the sunshine on those waves, the silent shadows fa

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