Christina G. Rossetti

Wood-pigeons cooed there, stock-doves nestled there;
My trees were full on songs and flowers and fruit,
Their read more

Wood-pigeons cooed there, stock-doves nestled there;
My trees were full on songs and flowers and fruit,
Their branches spread a city to the air.

The sunrise wakes the lark to sing,
The moonrise wakes the nightingale.
Come, darkness, moonrise, everything
read more

The sunrise wakes the lark to sing,
The moonrise wakes the nightingale.
Come, darkness, moonrise, everything
That is so silent, sweet, and pale:
Come, so ye wake the nightingale.

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.

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.

We shall escape the uphill by never turning back.

We shall escape the uphill by never turning back.