Edith Nesbit

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

Edith Nesbit Poems

281. The Last Defeat 4/19/2010
282. The Nest 4/19/2010
283. A Farewell 4/19/2010
284. After Sixty Years 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. The Despot 12/31/2002
293. A Last Appeal 4/19/2010
294. After Death 4/19/2010
295. At The Sound Of The Drum 4/19/2010
296. The Island 12/31/2002
297. The Maiden's Prayer 4/19/2010
298. A Kentish Garden 4/19/2010
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)

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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)

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Best Poem of Edith Nesbit

Age To Youth

Sunrise is in your eyes, and in your heart
The hope and bright desire of morn and May.
My eyes are full of shadow, and my part
Of life is yesterday.

Yet lend my hand your hand, and let us sit
And see your life unfolding like a scroll,
Rich with illuminated blazon, fit
For your arm-bearing soul.

My soul bears arms too, but the scroll's rolled tight,
Yet the one strip of faded brightness shown
Proclaims that when 'twas splendid in the light
Its blazon matched your own.

Read the full of Age To Youth

The Island

Does the wind sing in your ears at night, in the town,
Rattling the windows and doors of the cheap-built place?
Do you hear its song as it flies over marsh and down?
Do you feel the kiss that the wind leaves here on my face?
Or, wrapt in a lamplit quiet, do you restrain
Thoughts that would take the wind's way hither to me,
And bid them rest safe-anchored, nor tempt again
The tumult, and torment, and passion that live in the sea?

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