If hope grew on a bush,
And joy grew on a tree,
What a nosegay for the plucking
There would be!

But oh! in windy autumn,
When frail flowers wither,
What should we do for hope and joy,
Fading together?

(C) Christina Rossetti
01/01/2000


Best Poems of Christina Rossetti

• Looking Forward
• Our Mothers
• My Dream
• Have You Forgotten?
• Eve
• Piteous My Rhyme
• Diamond Or Coal
• Jessie Cameron
• Months
• Rest
• Confluents
• Dream-land
• Riddle
• If Hope
• A Helpmeet For Him
• Is The Moon Tired?
• Hope
• Pastime
• A White Hen
• I Planted A Hand
• Remember