Edith Nesbit

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

Edith Nesbit Poems

41. The Spell 4/19/2010
42. The Wife Of All Ages 4/19/2010
43. The Way Of The Wood 4/19/2010
44. To The Queen Of England 4/19/2010
45. The Tree Of Knowledge 4/19/2010
46. The Singing Of The Magnificat 4/19/2010
47. The Things That Matter 4/19/2010
48. The Promise Of Spring 4/19/2010
49. Song Ii 4/19/2010
50. Via Amoris 4/19/2010
51. The Prodigal Son 4/19/2010
52. Not Now, When Skies Are Gold And Blue 4/19/2010
53. Out Of Hope 4/19/2010
54. The Glow-Worm To Her Love 4/19/2010
55. When! 4/19/2010
56. White Magic 4/19/2010
57. Second Nature 4/19/2010
58. Flower Of Aloe 4/19/2010
59. Ebb-Tide 4/19/2010
60. En Tout Cas 4/19/2010
61. De Profundis 4/19/2010
62. Death 4/19/2010
63. Despair 4/19/2010
64. Cul-De-Sac 4/19/2010
65. Faith Ii 4/19/2010
66. Christmas Hymn 4/19/2010
67. For The New Year 4/19/2010
68. Fear 4/19/2010
69. February 4/19/2010
70. Christmas Roses 4/19/2010
71. Compensation 4/19/2010
72. Dream-Dew 4/19/2010
73. Envoys 4/19/2010
74. Morning 4/19/2010
75. The Guardian Angel 4/19/2010
76. The Fire 4/19/2010
77. Evening Prayer 4/19/2010
78. England 4/19/2010
79. Entreaty 4/19/2010
80. The Heart Of Sadness 4/19/2010

Comments about Edith Nesbit

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

    Hagri poem

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Rohit Parande (2/21/2018 7:49:00 AM)

    I like poem and story

Best Poem of Edith Nesbit

The Choice

PLAGUE take the dull and dusty town,
Its paved and sordid mazes,
Now Spring has trimmed her pretty gown
With buttercups and daisies!


With half my heart I long to lie
Among the flowered grasses,
And hear the loving leaves that sigh
As their sweet Mistress passes.


Through picture-shows I make my way
While flower-crowned maids go maying,
And all the cultured things I say
That cultured folk are saying.


For I renounce Spring's darling face,
With may-bloom fresh upon it:
My Mistress lives in Grosvenor-place
And wears...

Read the full of The Choice

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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