Edith Nesbit

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

Edith Nesbit Poems

81. New Year 4/19/2010
82. Flower Of Aloe 4/19/2010
83. Ebb-Tide 4/19/2010
84. En Tout Cas 4/19/2010
85. Faith Ii 4/19/2010
86. De Profundis 4/19/2010
87. Death 4/19/2010
88. Despair 4/19/2010
89. Cul-De-Sac 4/19/2010
90. Christmas Hymn 4/19/2010
91. For The New Year 4/19/2010
92. New Year Snow 4/19/2010
93. Rejected 4/19/2010
94. Renunciation 4/19/2010
95. Quieta Ne Movete Ii 4/19/2010
96. Parting 4/19/2010
97. Philosophy 4/19/2010
98. Prelude 4/19/2010
99. Over And Done 4/19/2010
100. Prayer In Time Of War 4/19/2010
101. Retro Santhanas 4/19/2010
102. Fear 4/19/2010
103. February 4/19/2010
104. Christmas Roses 4/19/2010
105. Compensation 4/19/2010
106. Dream-Dew 4/19/2010
107. Envoys 4/19/2010
108. Tekel 4/19/2010
109. The Last Act 4/19/2010
110. Evening Prayer 4/19/2010
111. England 4/19/2010
112. Entreaty 4/19/2010
113. Questions 4/19/2010
114. The Heart Of Grief 4/19/2010
115. The Last Betrayal 4/19/2010
116. Quand Meme 4/19/2010
117. Faith 4/19/2010
118. Day And Night 4/19/2010
119. Mother Song 4/19/2010
120. The Offering 4/19/2010
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

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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