Christina Rossetti

Feast of Christina Rossetti, Poet, 1894 Am I a stone, and not a sheep, That I can stand, 0 read more

Feast of Christina Rossetti, Poet, 1894 Am I a stone, and not a sheep, That I can stand, 0 Christ, beneath Thy cross, To number drop by drop Thy Blood's slow loss, And yet not weep? Not so those women loved Who with exceeding grief lamented Thee; Not so fallen Peter weeping bitterly; Not so the thief was moved; Not so the Sun and Moon Which hid their faces in a starless sky: A horror of great darkness at broad noon I only I. Yet give not o'er But seek Thy sheep, true Shepherd of the flock; Greater than Moses, turn and look once more And smite a rock.

I might show facts as plain as day: but, since your eyes are blind, you'd say, "Where? What?" and turn read more

I might show facts as plain as day: but, since your eyes are blind, you'd say, "Where? What?" and turn away.

Better by far that you should forget and smile than that you should remember and be sad.

Better by far that you should forget and smile than that you should remember and be sad.

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.

Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end. Will the day's journey take the whole read more

Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end. Will the day's journey take the whole long day? From morn to night, my friend.