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| Poetry Please start one thread for your own poetry and just add to it! |
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I love anything Christina Rossetti (English Victorian poetress; 1830~1894) ever wrote. This is, perhaps my favorite piece of hers:
A Birthday My heart is like a singing bird Whose nest is in a watered shoot; My heart is like an apple tree Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit; My heart is like a rainbow shell That paddles in a halcyon sea; My heart is gladder than all these Because my love is come to me. Raise me a dais of silk and down; Hang it with vair and purple dyes; Carve it in doves and pomegranates, And peacocks with a hundred eyes; Work it in gold and silver grapes, In leaves and silver fleurs~de~lys; Because the birthday of my life Is come, my love is come to me. (November 18, 1857) |
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