Christina Georgina Rossetti

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

Christina Georgina Rossetti Poems

281. Rest 1/4/2003
282. Before The Paling Of The Stars 1/3/2003
283. What Would I Give 1/3/2003
284. De Profundis 12/31/2002
285. Cobwebs 1/3/2003
286. Spring Quiet 1/3/2003
287. Up-Hill 1/4/2003
288. Sappho 1/3/2003
289. In The Bleak Midwinter 4/1/2010
290. From The Antique 1/3/2003
291. The First Day 1/3/2003
292. Mirage 1/3/2003
293. Beneath Thy Cross 1/3/2003
294. Cousin Kate 1/3/2003
295. Maude Clare 3/16/2003
296. Who Shall Deliver Me? 1/3/2003
297. In An Artist's Studio 1/3/2003
298. By The Sea 1/3/2003
299. The Convent Threshold 1/3/2003
300. Winter: My Secret 1/3/2003
301. Promises Like Pie-Crust 1/3/2003
302. A Baby's Cradle With No Baby In It 4/1/2010
303. An Apple-Gathering 1/3/2003
304. Bride Song 1/4/2003
305. Goblin Market 12/31/2002
306. Sleeping At Last 1/3/2003
307. Silent Noon 1/3/2003
308. No, Thank You John 1/3/2003
309. Song 12/31/2002
310. A Pause 1/3/2003
311. A Study (A Soul) 1/3/2003
312. Who Has Seen The Wind? 1/3/2003
313. A Better Ressurection 1/3/2003
314. From Sunset To Star Rise 1/3/2003
315. A Daughter Of Eve 1/3/2003
316. A Birthday 1/3/2003
317. When I Am Dead, My Dearest 1/3/2003
318. Dream Land 12/31/2002
319. Echo 1/3/2003
320. Remember 12/31/2002
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

Cobwebs

It is a land with neither night nor day,
Nor heat nor cold, nor any wind, nor rain,
Nor hills nor valleys; but one even plain
Stretches thro' long unbroken miles away:
While thro' the sluggish air a twilight grey
Broodeth; no moons or seasons wax and wane,
No ebb and flow are there among the main,
No bud-time no leaf-falling there for aye,
No ripple on the sea, no shifting sand,

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