- On the stroke of midnight christina rossetti how to#
- On the stroke of midnight christina rossetti manual#
On the stroke of midnight christina rossetti manual#
He tried reading The Manual of Sleep, but it just put him To sleep. Sleep that He’d grown so tired of sleeping.
On the stroke of midnight christina rossetti how to#
Sleep There was a man who didn’t know how to sleep nodding Off every night into a drab, unprofessional sleep.Later at the Club when I rang him in the evening They said. Infelice Walking swiftly with a dreadful duchess, He smiled too briefly, his face was pale as sand, He jumped into a taxi when he saw me coming, Leaving my alone with a private meaning, He loves me so much, my heart is singing.And sure, when she pushed open the door, Rapt in the stillness there, Her mother sat, with stooping head, Asleep upon a chair Fast fast asleep her two hands. The Sleeper As Ann came in one summer’s day, She felt that she must creep, So silent was the clear cool house, It seemed a house of sleep.Cupid Sleeping CLOSE in a woodbine’s tangled shade, The BLOOMING GOD asleep was laid His brows with mossy roses crown’d His golden darts lay scatter’d round To shade his auburn, curled head, A purple canopy was spread, Which gently with the breezes play’d, And shed around a soften’d shade.She is stuck in the time machine, Suddenly two years old sucking her thumb, As inward as a snail, Learning to talk again. Briar Rose (Sleeping Beauty) Consider A girl who keeps slipping off, Arms limp as old carrots, Into the hypnotist’s trance, Into a spirit world Speaking with the gift of tongues.Seven summers old Lovely Lyca told, She had wandered long. In the southern clime, Where the summers prime Never fades away Lovely Lyca lay. (Grave the sentence deep) Shall arise and seek For her maker meek: And the desart wild Become a garden mild.
The Little Girl Lost In futurity I prophesy see.Pray lead me to his bed! I came to build the Bird’s nest, And sow the Early seed That when the snow creeps slowly From off his chamber door Daisies point the way there And the Troubadour. Sexton! My Master's sleeping here Sexton! My Master’s sleeping here.
God beloved of us, all men’s lover, All most. Sleep Sleep, when a soul that her own clouds cover Wails that sorrow should always keep Watch, nor see in the gloom above her Sleep, Down, through darkness naked and steep, Sinks, and the gifts of his grace recover Soon the soul, though her wound be deep.For God While Sleeping Sleeping in fever, I am unfair To know just who you are: Hung up like a pig on exhibit, The delicate wrists, The beard drooling blood and vinegar Hooked to your own weight, Jolting toward death under your nameplate.I said: Along which secret aqueduct, Oh water, are you coming to me, Water of a new life That I have never drunk? Last night as I was sleeping, I dreamt-marvelous error!- That I had a beehive. Last Night As I Was Sleeping Last night as I was sleeping, I dreamt-marvelous error!- That a spring was breaking Out in my heart.Below, where the wallpaper is peeling, The Jardin des Plantes has locked its gates. The little crystal chandelier Is off, the fountain is in the dark. Sleeping On The Ceiling It is so peaceful on the ceiling! It is the Place de la Concorde.Sleeping Together Sleeping together… how tired you were… How warm our room… how the firelight spread On walls and ceiling and great white bed! We spoke in whispers as children do, And now it was I and then it was you Slept a moment, to wake “My dear, I’m not at all sleepy,” one of us said….
0 kommentar(er)
