Best 116 quotes of Christina Rossetti on MyQuotes

All earth's full rivers can not fillThe sea that drinking thirsteth still.

All things that pass Are wisdom's looking-glass.

A man is ever apt to contemplate himself out of all proportion to his surroundings.

And all winds go sighing For sweet things dying.

And may you happy live, And long us bless.

And sometimes I remember days of old When fellowship seemed not so far to seek, And all the world and I seemed much less cold, And at the rainbow's foot lay surely gold, And hope felt strong, and life itself not weak.

A pin has a head, but has no hair

As a tree my sin stands To darken all lands; Death is the fruit it bore.

Because the birthday of my life Is come, my love is come to me.

Be the green grass above me, with showers and dewdrops wet; and if thou wilt, remember, and if thou wilt, forget.

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

Born in a stable, Cradled in a manger, In the world His hands have made, Born a stranger.

Can anything be sadder than work left unfinished? Yes, work never begun.

Christmas hath a beauty ... lovelier than the world can show.

Christmas hath a darkness; Brighter than the blazing noon; Christmas hath a chillness Warmer than the heat of June, Christmas hath a beauty Lovelier than the world can show: For Christmas bringeth Jesus, Brought for us so low

Come to me in the silence of the night, Come to me 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.

Consider The lilies of the field whose bloom is brief:-- We are as they; Like them we fade away As doth a leaf.

Fair as the moon and joyful as the light; Tot wan with waiting, not with sorrow dim; Not as she is, but was when hope shone bright; Not as she is, but as she fills his dreams.

Faith is like a lily, lifted high and white.

For I am bound with fleshly bands, Joy, beauty, lie beyond my scope; I strain my heart, I stretch my hands, And catch at hope.

For one man is my world of all the men this wide world holds; O love, my world is you.

For there is no friend like a sister in calm or stormy weather.

Gone were but the Winter, Come were but the Spring, I would go to a covert Where the birds sing; Where in the whitethorn Singeth a thrush, And a robin sings In the holly-bush. Full of fresh scents Are the budding boughs Arching high over A cool green house: Full of sweet scents, And whispering air Which sayeth softly: We spread no snare; Here dwell in safety, Here dwell alone, With a clear stream And a mossy stone. Here the sun shineth Most shadily; Here is heard an echo Of the far sea, Though far off it be.

Good deeds are many, but good lives are few.

Heaven is the presence of God.

Hope dead lives nevermore, No, not in heaven.

Hope is like a hairball trembling from its birth.

Hope is like a harebell, trembling from its birth,Love is like a rose, the joy of all the earth,Faith is like a lily, lifted high and white,Love is like a lovely rose, the world's delight.Harebells and sweet lilies show a thornless growth,But the rose with all its thorns excels them both.

Hurt no living thing: Ladybird, nor butterfly, Nor moth with dusty wing.

I believe because I am told to believe ... My faith is faith; it is not evolved out of argumentation, nor does it seek the aid of that.

I have a room whereinto no one enters Save I myself alone: There sits a blessed memory on a throne, There my life centres.

I have no wit, no words, no tears; My heart within me like a stone Is numb'd too much for hopes or fears; Look right, look left, I dwell alone; I lift mine eyes, but dimm'd with grief No everlasting hills I see; My life is in the falling leaf: O Jesus, quicken me.

I lock my door upon myself, And bar them out; but who shall wall Self from myself, most loathed of all?

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

In the bleak midwinter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, Snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, Long ago.

It is not the deed we do Though the deed be never so fair, But the love that the dear Lord looketh for, Hidden with lovely care In the heart of the deed so fair.

It's surely summer. for there's a swallow: Come one swallow, his mate will follow, The bird race quicken and wheel and thicken.

I watched a rose-bud very long Brought on by dew and sun and shower, Waiting to see the perfect flower: Then when I thought it should be strong It opened at the matin hour And fell at even-song.

I wish I could remember the first day, First hour, first moment of your meeting me; If bright or dim the season it might be; Summer or winter for aught I can say. So, unrecorded did it slip away, So blind was i to see and to forsee, So dull to mark the budding of my tree That would not blossom, yet, for many a May.

I wonder if the sap is stirring yet, If wintry birds are dreaming of a mate, If frozen snowdrops feel as yet the sun And crocus fires are kindling one by one: Sing robin, sing: I still am sore in doubt concerning Spring.

January cold and desolate; February dripping wet; March wind ranges; April changes; Birds sing in tune To flowers of May, And sunny June Brings longest day; In scorched July The storm-clouds fly, Lightning-torn; August bears corn, September fruit; In rough October Earth must disrobe her; Stars fall and shoot In keen November; And night is long And cold is strong In bleak December.

Lie still, lie still, my breaking heart; My silent heart, lie still and break: Life, and the world, and mine own self, are changed For a dream's sake.

Love came down at Christmas, Love all lovely, Love Divine; Love was born at Christmas; Star and angels gave the sign.

Love is like a rose, the joy of all the earth.

Love loves for ever, And finds a sort of joy in pain, And gives with nought to take again, And loves too well to end in vain: Is the gain small then? Love laughs at "never", Outlives our life, exceeds the span Appointed to mere mortal man: All which love is and does and can Is all in all then.

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

My heart is breaking for a little love

My heart is like a singing bird.

My heart is like a singing bird Whose nest is in a water'd shoot; My heart is like an apple-tree Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit.

My heart is like a singing bird Whose nest is in a water'd shoot; My heart is like an apple-tree Whose boughs are bent with thick-set 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 daïs 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.