Quotes by Christina Rossetti

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Christina Georgina Rossetti (December 5, 1830 December 29, 1894) was an English poet and the sister of artist Dante Gabriel Rossetti as well as William Michael Rossetti and Maria Francesca Rossetti. Their father, Gabriele Rossetti, was a political asylum seeker from Naples, and their mother, Frances Polidori, was the sister of Lord Byron's friend and physician, John William Polidori. more

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Love shall be our token; love be yours and love be mine.

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.
And all the winds go sighing, for sweet things dying.
I dream of you to wake; would that I might Dream of you and not wake but slumber on...
She gave up beauty in her tender youth, gave all her hope and joy and pleasant ways; she covered up her eyes lest they should gaze on vanity, and chose the bitter truth.
Hope is like a hairball trembling from its birth...
I might show facts as plain as day: but, since your eyes are blind, you'd say, Where? What? and turn away.
Be the green grass above me, with showers and dewdrops wet; and if thou wilt, remember, and if thou wilt, forget.
Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I but when the trees bow down their heads, the wind is passing by.
One young life lost, two happy young lives blighted, With earthward eyes we see; With eyes uplifted, keener, farther-sighted, We look, O Lord, to Thee.
For one man is my world of all the men this wide world holds; O love, my world is you.
With kindly lips of welcome, and with pleased Propitious eyes benign, Accept a kiss of homage from your least Last Valentine.
Spring bursts to-day, For Christ is risen and all the earth's at play.
What can I give Him Poor as I am? If I were a shepherd I would bring a lamb; If I were a wise man, I would do my part,--Yet what I can give Him Give my heart.
June the month of months Flowers and fruitage brings too, When green trees spread shadiest boughs, When each wild bird sings too.

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