Edith Nesbit

(15 August 1858 – 4 May 1924 / Kennington / Surrey / England)

Edith Nesbit Poems

281. After Sixty Years 4/19/2010
282. A Life's Story 4/19/2010
283. Spring In War-Time 4/19/2010
284. The Moors 4/19/2010
285. Lullaby 4/19/2010
286. The Gray Folk 4/19/2010
287. Spring Song Iii 4/19/2010
288. A Star In The East 4/19/2010
289. Sea-Shells 4/19/2010
290. Song 4/19/2010
291. A Dirge 4/19/2010
292. A Last Appeal 4/19/2010
293. After Death 4/19/2010
294. At The Sound Of The Drum 4/19/2010
295. A Kentish Garden 4/19/2010
296. The Island 12/31/2002
297. The Maiden's Prayer 4/19/2010
298. The Despot 12/31/2002
299. A Garden Of Girls 4/19/2010
300. St. Valentine's Day 12/31/2002
301. A Good-Bye 4/19/2010
302. In Trouble 12/31/2002
303. The Kiss 1/3/2003
304. Villeggiature 1/3/2003
305. Child's Song In Spring 8/18/2006
306. A Tragedy 12/31/2002
307. Age To Youth 4/19/2010
308. A Parting Ii 4/19/2010
309. The Choice 4/19/2010

Comments about Edith Nesbit

  • Swarali (1/24/2020 8:11:00 AM)

    I want a Poem written by EDITH NESBIT

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  • Someshwar (1/16/2020 7:45:00 AM)

    Tell me poems of edit nesbit

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  • Sumit sayam (2/27/2018 8:00:00 AM)

    Hagri poem

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  • Rohit Parande (2/21/2018 7:49:00 AM)

    I like poem and story

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Best Poem of Edith Nesbit

A Parting Ii

I WILL not wake you, dear; no tears shall creep
To chill the still bed where you lie asleep;
No cry, no word, shall break the sanctity
Of the great silence where God lets you lie.
I will not tease your grave with flower or stone;
You are tired, my heart; you shall be left alone.
And even the kisses that my lips must lay
Upon the mould of the triumphant clay
Shall be so soft--like those a mother lays
Upon her sleeping baby's little face--
You will not feel my kisses, will not hear;
You are tired: sleep on, I will not wake you, dear!
But when the good day ...

Read the full of A Parting Ii

St. Valentine's Day

The South is a dream of flowers
With a jewel for sky and sea,
Rose-crowns for the dancing hours,
Gold fruits upon every tree;
But cold from the North The wind blows forth
That blows my love to me.
The stars in the South are gold
Like lamps between sky and sea;
The flowers that the forests hold.

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