Edith Nesbit

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

Edith Nesbit Poems

161. The Depths Of The Sea 4/19/2010
162. The Destroyer 4/19/2010
163. The Claim 4/19/2010
164. The Heart Of Joy 4/19/2010
165. The Invitation 4/19/2010
166. The Last Ditch 4/19/2010
167. The Last Envoy 4/19/2010
168. The Least Possible 4/19/2010
169. The Lost Embassy 4/19/2010
170. The Lower Room 4/19/2010
171. The Magic Flower 4/19/2010
172. The Past 4/19/2010
173. The Pedlar 4/19/2010
174. The Point Of View: I 4/19/2010
175. August 4/19/2010
176. Autumn Song 4/19/2010
177. As It Is 4/19/2010
178. Betrayed 4/19/2010
179. Evening Song 4/19/2010
180. At Parting 4/19/2010
181. At Parting Ii 4/19/2010
182. At The Feast 4/19/2010
183. Maidenhood 4/19/2010
184. In The Shallows 4/19/2010
185. From The Italian 4/19/2010
186. Medway Song 4/19/2010
187. Vies Manquees 4/19/2010
188. From The Portuguese 4/19/2010
189. Margaret 4/19/2010
190. At The Gate 4/19/2010
191. The Gift Of The Gods 4/19/2010
192. The Onlooker 4/19/2010
193. The Magic Ring 4/19/2010
194. The Old Dispensation 4/19/2010
195. The Husband Of To-Day 4/19/2010
196. The Charm 4/19/2010
197. The Ferry 4/19/2010
198. At The Last 4/19/2010
199. Baby's Birthday 4/19/2010
200. Children's Playground In The City 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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  • Mr.xdhhshshshsh d (2/20/2019 8:35:00 AM)

    Average.good fairgsgsggshhshhs

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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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    1 person did not like.
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

A Tragedy

Among his books he sits all day
To think and read and write;
He does not smell the new-mown hay,
The roses red and white.

I walk among them all alone,
His silly, stupid wife;
The world seems tasteless, dead and done -
An empty thing is life.