Goblin Market: And Other Poems

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Macmillan, 1865 - 192 pages
 

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LibraryThing Review

User Review  - alanteder - LibraryThing

Romantic Symbolism & Morbid Themes Review of the Penguin Classics hardcover edition (2017) based on the 1862 original I would have liked more context and background information on Christina Rossetti ... Read full review

LibraryThing Review

User Review  - quondame - LibraryThing

The title poem is so overwhelmingly sensuous that it belies the restraint theme. I interpret it as closer to an addiction->withdrawal tale where Laura gets the high and Lizzie the withdrawal. As for ... Read full review

Contents

I
1
II
31
III
33
IV
35
V
37
VI
38
VII
41
VIII
44
XXXIII
102
XXXIV
104
XXXV
105
XXXVI
107
XXXVII
109
XXXVIII
110
XXXIX
112
XL
113

IX
47
X
51
XI
54
XII
56
XIII
58
XIV
59
XV
60
XVI
62
XVII
65
XVIII
66
XIX
71
XX
73
XXI
75
XXII
76
XXIII
80
XXIV
82
XXV
85
XXVI
87
XXVII
89
XXVIII
90
XXIX
93
XXX
94
XXXI
96
XXXII
100
XLI
114
XLII
116
XLIII
117
XLIV
119
XLV
128
XLVI
131
XLVII
133
XLVIII
135
XLIX
137
L
139
LI
143
LII
147
LIII
148
LIV
153
LV
155
LVI
157
LVII
159
LVIII
160
LIX
165
LX
171
LXI
186
LXII
187
LXIII
189
LXIV
191

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Page 58 - Only remember me; you understand It will be late to counsel then or pray. Yet if you should forget me for a while And afterwards remember, do not grieve: For if the darkness and corruption leave A vestige of the thoughts that once I had, Better by far you should forget and smile Than that...
Page 128 - Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end. Will the day's journey take the whole long day? From morn to night, my friend. But is there for the night a resting-place? A roof for when the slow dark hours begin. May not the darkness hide it from my face? You cannot miss that inn.
Page 56 - My heart is like a singing bird Whose nest is in a watered shoot: My heart is like an apple-tree Whose boughs are bent with thickset fruit; My IK.II [ 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.
Page 81 - My very life again though 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!
Page 19 - Look at our apples Russet and dun, Bob at our cherries, Bite at our peaches, Citrons and dates, Grapes for the asking, Pears red with basking Out in the sun, Plums on their twigs; Pluck them and suck them, Pomegranates, figs.
Page 4 - Covered close lest they should look; Laura reared her glossy head, And whispered like the restless brook: 'Look, Lizzie, look, Lizzie, Down the glen tramp little men. One hauls a basket, One bears a plate, One lugs a golden dish Of many pounds weight. How fair the vine must grow Whose grapes are so luscious; How warm the wind must blow Through those fruit bushes.' 'No,' said Lizzie; 'No, no, no, Their offers should not charm us, Their evil gifts would harm us.
Page 7 - Clearer than water flowed that juice; She never tasted such before, How should it cloy with length of use ? She sucked and sucked and sucked the more fruits which that unknown orchard bore; She sucked until her lips were sore ; Then flung the emptied rinds away But gathered up one kernel stone, And knew not was it night or day As she turned home alone.
Page 189 - PASSING away, saith the World, passing away : Chances, beauty and youth sapped day by day : Thy life never continueth in one stay. Is the eye waxen dim, is the dark hair changing to grey That hath won neither laurel nor bay ? I shall clothe myself in Spring and bud in May : Thou, root-stricken, shalt not rebuild thy decay On my bosom for aye. Then I answered : Yea.
Page 33 - WHERE sunless rivers weep Their waves into the deep, She sleeps a charmed sleep : Awake her not. Led by a single star, She came from very far To seek where shadows are Her pleasant lot. She left the rosy morn, She left the fields of corn, For twilight cold and lorn And water springs. Through sleep, as through a veil She sees the sky look pale, And hears the nightingale That sadly sings. Rest, rest, a perfect rest Shed over brow and breast ; Her face is toward the west, The purple land. She cannot...
Page 30 - Of not-returning time: Would talk about the haunted glen, The wicked, quaint fruit-merchant men, Their fruits like honey to the throat But poison in the blood; (Men sell not such in any town:) Would tell them how her sister stood In deadly peril to do her good, And win the fiery antidote: Then joining hands to little hands Would bid them cling together, '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...

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