Edith Nesbit

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

Edith Nesbit Poems

281. The December Rose 4/19/2010
282. Spring In War-Time 4/19/2010
283. The Moors 4/19/2010
284. Lullaby 4/19/2010
285. The Gray Folk 4/19/2010
286. Spring Song Iii 4/19/2010
287. A Star In The East 4/19/2010
288. Song 4/19/2010
289. A Dirge 4/19/2010
290. The Despot 12/31/2002
291. A Last Appeal 4/19/2010
292. After Death 4/19/2010
293. At The Sound Of The Drum 4/19/2010
294. A Kentish Garden 4/19/2010
295. The Island 12/31/2002
296. The Maiden's Prayer 4/19/2010
297. The Magic Flower 4/19/2010
298. A Garden Of Girls 4/19/2010
299. Sea-Shells 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. A Tragedy 12/31/2002
306. Child's Song In Spring 8/18/2006
307. Age To Youth 4/19/2010
308. A Parting Ii 4/19/2010
309. The Choice 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

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?

[Report Error]