Indiscretion
RED tulip-buds last night caressed
The sacred ivory of her breast.
She met me, eager to divine
What gold-heart bud of hope was mine.
Nor eyes nor lips were strong to part
The close-curled petals round my heart;
The joy I knew no monarch knows,
Yet not a petal would unclose.
But, ah!--the tulip-buds, unwise,
Warmed with the sunshine of her eyes,
And by her soft breath glorified
Went mad with love and opened wide.
She saw their hearts, all golden-gay,
Laughed, frowned, and flung the flowers away.
[...] Read more
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Chloe
NIGHT wind sighing through the poplar leaves,
Trembling of the aspen, shivering of the willow,
Every leafy voice of all the night-time grieves,
Mourning, weeping over Chloe's pillow.
Chloe, fresher than the breeze of dawn,
Fairer than the larches in their young spring glory,
Brighter than the glow-worms on the dewy lawn,
Hear the dirge the green trees sing to end your story:--
'Chloe lived and Chloe loved: she brought new gladness,
Hope and life and all things good to all who met her;
Only, dying, wept to know the lifelong sadness
Willed, against her will, to those who can't forget her.'
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In The Rose Garden
RED roses bright, pink roses and white
That bud and blossom and fall;
The very sight of my heart's delight
Is more than worth them all!
Is worth far more than the whole sweet store
That ever a garden grew--
She plucked the best to die at her breast,
But it laughed and it bloomed anew!
The red rose lay at her lips to-day,
And flushed with the joy thereof;
She said a word that the white rose heard,
And the white rose paled with love.
But the west wind blows, and my lady goes,
And she leaves the world forlorn;
And every rose that the garden grows,
Might just as well be a thorn!
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Day And Night
NIGHT, ambushed in the darkling wood,
Waited to seize the sleeping field,
His sentinels the pine trees stood
Till the sun fell beneath his shield.
Then when the day at last was dead,
Night, in his might, marched conquering
Across the land his banner spread
And reigned as victor and as King.
And you and I--all days apart
Rejoiced to see Night's victory,
Because he has a kindlier heart
Than Day wears with his sovereignty:
Day keeps us prisoned close, but Night
Lifts off Day's chains, and all night through
You dream of me, my life's delight,
And all night through I dream of you.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Love Well The Hour
HEART of my heart, my life and light,
If you were lost what should I do?
I dare not let you from my sight,
Lest Death should fall in love with you.
Such countless terrors lie in wait.
The gods know well how dear you are:
What if they left me desolate
And plucked and set you for their star?
So hold my hand--the gods are strong,
And perfect joy so rare a flower
No man may hope to keep it long,
And I might lose it any hour.
So, kiss me close, my star, my flower,
Thus shall the future spare me this:
[...] Read more
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
To Rosamund
AND it is fair and very fair
This maze of blossom and sweet air,
This drift of orchard snows,
This royal promise of the rose
Wherein your young eyes see
Such buds of scented joys to be.
A gay green garden, softly fanned
By the blythe breeze that blows
To speed your ship of dreams to the enchanted land.
But I--beyond the budding screen
Of green and red and white and green,
Behind the radiant show
Of things that cling and grow and glow
I see the plains where lie
The hopes of days gone by:
Gray breadths of melancholy, crossed
By winds that coldly blow
From that cold sea wherein my argosy is lost.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Treasure
UNDER our lead we lie
While the sun and the snow go by,
And our shrouds lie close, lie close,
Like the leaves of a shut white rose
That knows not what summer knows
Before it is time to die.
You, in the sun, up there
Where the wild thyme scents the air;
Is it warm still--and sweet and gay
Up there in the wide blue day?
Do you pity us, shut away
From the fields where the flowers are fair?
Pity us here? shut in
In the dark, where the flowers begin?
The coins lie light on our eyes,
In our empty hands is the prize,
[...] Read more
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
May Song
BIRDS in the green of my garden
Blackbirds and throstle and wren,
Wet your dear wings in the tears that are Spring's
And so to your singing again!
Birds in my blossoming orchard,
Chaffinch and goldfinch and lark,
Preen your bright wings, little happy live things;
The May trees grow white in the park!
Birds in the leafy wet woodlands,
Cuckoo and nightingale brown,
Sing to the sound of the rain on green ground--
The rain on green leaves dripping down!
Fresh with the rain of the May-time,
Rich with the promise of June,
Deep in her heart, where the little leaves part,
Love, like a bird, sings in tune!
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Gratitude
I found a starving cat in the street:
It cried for food and a place by the fire.
I carried it home, and I strove to meet
The claims of its desire.
And since its desire was a little fish,
A little hay and a little milk,
I gave it cream in a silver dish
And a basket lined with silk.
And when we came to the grateful pause
When it should have fawned on the hand that fed,
It turned to a devil all teeth and claws,
Scratched me and bit me and fled.
To pay for the fish and the milk and the hay
With a purr had been an easy task:
But its hate and my blood were required to pay
For the gifts that it did not ask.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Over And Undone
IF one might hope that when we say farewell
To life, we two might but be one at last!
But we look back on a divided past,
And a divided future must foretell.
Apart we sowed the seed that flowers in hell,
The seed that blooms in heaven apart we cast:
See what remembrances my heart holds fast--
Ask your own heart what deeds you deem done well!
The memory I find my heaven in
Is that one hand-touch you regret as sin;
Your goodness, dear, that stood between us two
And made my hell, may make a heaven for you;
So evermore must lie our souls between
The kiss unkissed, the infinite might-have-been!
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!