Christina G. Rossetti

There goes the swallow,--
Could we but follow!
Hasty swallow, stay,
Point us out read more

There goes the swallow,--
Could we but follow!
Hasty swallow, stay,
Point us out the way;
Look back swallow, turn back swallow, stop swallow.

The violets whisper from the shade
Which their own leaves have made:
Men scent our fragrance on read more

The violets whisper from the shade
Which their own leaves have made:
Men scent our fragrance on the air,
Yet take no heed
Of humble lessons we would read.

I plucked a honeysuckle where
The hedge on high is quick with thorn,
And climbing for the read more

I plucked a honeysuckle where
The hedge on high is quick with thorn,
And climbing for the prize, was torn,
And fouled my feet in quag-water;
And by the thorns and by the wind
The blossom that I took was thinn'd
And yet I found it sweet and fair.

We shall escape the uphill by never turning back.

We shall escape the uphill by never turning back.

For there is no friend like a sister, in calm or stormy weather, to cheer one on the tedious way, read more

For there is no friend like a sister, in calm or stormy weather, to cheer one on the tedious way, to fetch one if one goes astray, to lift one if one totters down, to strengthen whilst one stands.