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Open invitation to all readers who love sweet historical romance.
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Learn more about our Facebook party, giveaways & our fabulous authors
However, on my scheduled blog day, I want to share the other side of history and writers.
April is National Poetry month. In honor it seemed appropriate to share some of the more popular poems from the 1800s.
Christina Rosetti is a favorite of mine. Here is her poem 'Echo'
Echo
Come to me in the silence of the night;
Come in the speaking silence of a dream;
Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright
As sunlight on a stream;
Come back in tears,
O memory, hope, love of finished years.
Oh dream how sweet, too sweet, too bitter sweet,
Whose wakening should have been in Paradise,
Where souls brimfull of love abide and meet;
Where thirsting longing eyes
Watch the slow door
That opening, letting in, lets out no more.
Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live
My very life again tho’ cold in death:
Come back to me in dreams, that I may give
Pulse for pulse, breath for breath:
Speak low, lean low,
As long ago, my love, how long ago.
Of course you can't talk about 1800s poetry without mentioning Emily Dickenson. Here is her poem ' Sometimes with the Heart'
Sometimes with the Heart
Seldom with the Soul
Scarcer once with the Might
Few - love at all.
Seldom with the Soul
Scarcer once with the Might
Few - love at all.
Anytime you speak about poets of the 1800s you usually include Tennyson. Here is a poem some of you may recognize:
Lullaby - Poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Sweet and low, sweet and low,
Wind of the western sea,
Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!
Over the rolling waters go,
Come from the dying moon, and blow,
Blow him again to me;
While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.
Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,
Father will come to thee soon;
Rest, rest, on mother's breast,
Father will come to thee soon;
Father will come to his babe in the nest,
Silver sails all out of the west
Under the silver moon:
Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.
Low, low, breathe and blow,
Wind of the western sea!
Over the rolling waters go,
Come from the dying moon, and blow,
Blow him again to me;
While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.
Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,
Father will come to thee soon;
Rest, rest, on mother's breast,
Father will come to thee soon;
Father will come to his babe in the nest,
Silver sails all out of the west
Under the silver moon:
Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.
I will leave you with a favorite of mine from Helen (Hunt) Jackson:
