Boy Johnny.

"If you'll busk you as a bride
And make ready,
It's I will wed you with a ring,
O fair lady."

"Shall I busk me as a bride,
I so bonny,
For you to wed me with a ring,
O boy Johnny?"

"When you've busked you as a bride
And made ready,
Who else is there to marry you,
O fair lady?"

"I will find my lover out,
I so bonny,
And you shall bear my wedding-train,
O boy Johnny."

Christina Georgina Rossetti

Christina Georgina Rossetti was an English poet born on December 5, 1830, and passed away on December 29, 1894. She is best known for her romantic, devotional, and children's poems. Rossetti's works include the famous poem 'Goblin Market' and the Christmas carol 'In the Bleak Midwinter'. A major Victorian poet, her writing often featured themes of love, nature, and spirituality. She was associated with the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, as her brother Dante Gabriel Rossetti was one of its founders.

Christina Georgina Rossetti

I Will Arise.

Christina Georgina Rossetti, Simple Poetry

Johnny.

Christina Georgina Rossetti, Simple Poetry

Conference Between Christ, The Saints, And The Soul

Christina Georgina Rossetti, Simple Poetry

Amen

Christina Georgina Rossetti, Simple Poetry

English

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Maggie A Lady.

You must not call me Maggie, you must not call me Dear,
For I'm Lady of the Manor now stately to see;
And if there comes a babe, as there may some happy year,
'T will be little lord or lady at my knee.

O, but what ails you, my sailor cousin Phil,
That you shake and turn white like a cockcrow ghost?
You're as white as I turned once down by the mill,
When one told me you and ship and crew were lost:

Philip my playfellow, when we were boy and girl
(It was the Miller's Nancy told it to me),
Philip with the merry life in lip and curl,
Philip my playfellow drowned in the sea!

I thought I should have fainted, but I did not faint;
I stood stunned at the moment, scarcely sad,
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Lady Maggie

You must not call me Maggie, you must not call me Dear,
    For I'm Lady of the Manor now stately to see;
And if there comes a babe, as there may some happy year,
    'Twill be little lord or lady at my knee.

Oh, but what ails you, my sailor cousin Phil,
    That you shake and turn white like a cockcrow ghost?
You're as white as I turned once down by the mill,
    When one told me you and ship and crew were lost:

Philip my playfellow, when we were boy and girl
    (It was the Miller's Nancy told it to me),
Philip with the merry life in lip and curl,
    Philip my playfellow drowned in the sea!

I thought I should have fainted, but I did not faint;
    I stood stunned at the moment, scarcely sad,
Till I raised my wail of desolate complaint
    For y...

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To My Bride (Whoever She May Be)

Oh! little maid! (I do not know your name
Or who you are, so, as a safe precaution
I'll add) Oh, buxom widow! married dame!
(As one of these must be your present portion)
Listen, while I unveil prophetic lore for you,
And sing the fate that Fortune has in store for you.

You'll marry soon within a year or twain
A bachelor of circa two and thirty:
Tall, gentlemanly, but extremely plain,
And when you're intimate, you'll call him "BERTIE."
Neat dresses well; his temper has been classified
As hasty; but he's very quickly pacified.

You'll find him working mildly at the Bar,
After a touch at two or three professions,
From easy affluence extremely far,
A brief or two on Circuit "soup" at Sessions;
A pound or two from whist and backing horses,
And, say...

William Schwenck Gilbert

John And Jane.

Said Jane to John, "Come, let us wed,
For know, dear John, I love you,
And, by the bright stars overhead,
There's none I place above you."

"I doubt it not," said John, "and I
Reciprocate the feeling,
And here, with one despairing cry,
I kneel, and love you, kneeling."

"Then why, dear John, do you despair,
If you do love so madly?"
"Because," said John, "my pocket there
Is slim, and furnish'd badly."

"Oh, that is naught," said Jane, with glee,
"I'd marry you to-morrow,
And live on bread, and water free,
Without one grain of sorrow."

"All right," said John, "I'm with you there,
Old Logan's charming daughter,
You'll get the bread, the work to share,
And I will get the water."

Thomas Frederick Young

Harry (Engaged To Be Married) To Charley (Who Is Not).

To all my fond rhapsodies, Charley,
    You have wearily listened, I fear;
As yet not an answer you've given
    Save a shrug, or an ill-concealed sneer;
Pray, why, when I talk of my marriage,
    Do you watch me with sorrowing eye?
'Tis you, hapless bachelor, Charley,
    That are to be pitied - not I!

You mockingly ask me to tell you,
    Since to bondage I soon must be sold,
Have I wisely chosen my fetters,
    Which, at least, should be forged of pure gold.
Hem! the sole wealth my love possesses
    Are her tresses of bright golden hair,
Pearly teeth, lips of rosiest coral,
    Eyes I know not with what to compare.

Don't talk about all I surrender -
    My club, champagne dinners, cigars,
My hand at écarté, my harmless

Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon

A Modern Courtship.

Why turn from me thus with such petulant pride,
When I ask thee, sweet Edith, to be my bride;
When I offer the gift of heart fond and true,
And with loyalty seek thy young love to woo?
With patience I've waited from week unto week,
And at length I must openly, candidly speak.

But why dost thou watch me in doubting surprise,
Why thus dost thou raise thy dark, deep, melting eyes?
Can'st thou wonder I love thee, when for the last year
We have whispered and flirted - told each hope and fear;
When I've lavished on thee presents costly and gay,
And kissed thy fair hands at least six times each day?

What! Do I hear right? So those long sunny hours
Spent wand'ring in woods or whispering in bowers,
Our love-making ardent in prose and in rhyme,
Was just only a me...

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