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Christina Rossetti

Christina Rosetti Biography

She was known as an heir to romantics and recognized by the brightest and extremely prominent writers and poets of her time including Tennyson and the Brownings. Her poems would inspire women to stand up and march in the streets and slaves to shutter their chains. Her name is Christina Rossetti, and she is the very face of the Victorian Era.


A mistress of romanticism and sentimentalism, Cristina Rossetti, was born on the 5th of December, 1830 in London in a family of a politician and teacher. She was a last of four children in the family. Apart from her, the family consisted also of Rossetti’s brothers and a sister who would later on all take the path of artistry as painters or writers.

Cristina didn’t attend school, but she was well-educated at home by her parents who’d focus their classes on religion, antique literature and folklore, which enabled her to get acquainted with and find a liking in poetry from a young age. Since the house was a minor center of art, it’d be often visited by that time popular writers, poets, scientists, and non-conformists.

When the poetess was a bit older than 10, the family got into financial scrutiny because of a bad health condition of the father and all members had to find jobs to support the family. This brought little Cristina to loneliness and major anxiety burst that encouraged her to write her first pieces, which were never published.

Early Years

The late 40s of the 19th century were significant since she was in a relationship with James Collinson who was a co-founder of a revolutionary art circle called Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood, but Rossetti turned down the upcoming marriage proposal due to James’ change of confession.

In 1842, Cristina attempted her first official writing by copying the style of her most adored classical poets. She’d write a lot, but her first pieces like ‘Death’s Chill Between,’ reflecting biblical motifs were published 1845 with a byline ‘Ellen Alleyne.’

The Germ, a literature almanac sponsored by Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood whose creator was William, the poetess’ sibling, would often publish her works, but still, her name wasn’t a bombshell yet.

Rossetti was acknowledged as a talented symbolist and mystic of letters in 1862, as of her Goblin Market and Other Poems was brought to the world. The compilation was accepted by critics cheeringly and even marked by Tennyson. Working at a shelter for ex-sex workers, opposing slavery and underscoring the essentiality of improving the position of genders in that-time British Empire, she was called a mouthpiece of the unfortunate and shunned.

Also, The Prince’s Progress and Other Poems, published in 1863-1866, was the second compilation published. It, again, showcased Rossetti’s natural talent to combine medieval motifs including religious symbolism, mysticism, and romanticism with that-time social issues.

Apart from these, Christina Rossetti created a great share of novellas and literary articles like Commonplace and Other Stories, Called to Be Saints; Time Flies A Reading Diary and many others all introduced to the public throughout 1870-1892.


Christina Rossetti’s works are embroidered with classical 17th and 18th-century motifs and human rights advocacy. She was older than 30, when her poems were introduced to readers and accepted by them (Goblin Market and Other Poems and The Prince’s Progress and Other Poems (1862-1866). However, her late start on the career wasn’t an obstacle, but more inspiration.

Published in 1872, and later edited in 1893, A Songs’ Book that is a compilation of kids’ verses that have included her in a list of great children’s authors of Britain.

The last book published was a compilation of non-rhymed works called The Face of the Deep aiming at having an insight into the spiritual and psychological being of a human being and was to have become a renewed edition of Sing-Song, but it never did.

A large number of her works were never published during her life, probably, due to financial scrutiny, but the one published posthumously could have enriched to her career as a story writer and poetess immensely. Such include The Rossetti Birthday Book, and New Poems published two years after she passed away.


In the last life years, Christina Rossetti’s doctors told her that she had Graves’ Disease and later cancer, from which she’d suffer for a couple of few years. The poetess died on the 29th of December, 1894 due to complications.

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Formal Features of Remember by Christina Rossetti Essay

“Remember” is a sonnet by a poetess of Victorian England. Christina Rossetti. The verse form was written in 1849 but was foremost published in 1862 in “Goblin Market and Other Poems” by Rossetti ( Petacovic. 2009 ) . Rossetti suffered from ailment wellness throughout her life ( Shanks. 2010 ) ; she seemed to be…

Comparison of ‘Cousin Kate’ and ‘Human Interest’

In this essay I will compare the two different poems ‘Human Interest’ and ‘Cousin Kate’. They are written by different poets, ‘Human Interest’ is written by Carol Ann Duffy, whom was born in 1955 which means it is modern twentieth century language. ‘Cousin Kate’ is written by Christina Rossetti, who was born in 1830 and…


Brown and furryCaterpillar in a hurry,Take your walkTo the shady leaf, or stalk,Or what not,Which may be the chosen spot.No toad spy you,Hovering bird of prey pass by you;Spin and die,To live again a butterfly.



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Is The Moon Tired?

Is the moon tired? she looks so paleWithin her misty veil:She scales the sky from east to west,And takes no rest. Before the coming of the nightThe moon shows papery white;Before the dawning of the dayShe fades away.


January cold desolate;February all dripping wet;March wind ranges;April changes;Birds sing in tuneTo flowers of May,And sunny JuneBrings longest day;In scorched JulyThe storm-clouds flyLightning torn;August bears corn,September fruit;In rough OctoberEarth must disrobe her;Stars fall and shootIn keen November;And night is longAnd cold is strongIn bleak December.

The Rose

The lily has a smooth stalk,  Will never hurt your hand;But the rose upon her brier  Is lady of the land. There’s sweetness in an apple tree,;;And profit in the corn;But lady of all beauty;;Is a rose upon a thorn. When with moss and honey;;She tips her bending brier,And half unfolds her glowing heart,;;She sets the world…

A Wintry Sonnet

A Robin said: The Spring will never come,  And I shall never care to build again.A Rosebush said: These frosts are wearisome,  My sap will never stir for sun or rain.The half Moon said: These nights are fogged and slow,I neither care to wax nor care to wane.The Ocean said: I thirst from long ago,  Because earth’s rivers…

What Is Pink?

What is pink? a rose is pinkBy the fountain’s brink.What is red? a poppy’s redIn its barley bed.What is blue? the sky is blueWhere the clouds float thro’.What is white? a swan is whiteSailing in the light.What is yellow? pears are yellow,Rich and ripe and mellow.What is green? the grass is green,With small flowers between.What…

What Are Heavy?

What are heavy? sea-sand and sorrow:What are brief? today and tomorrow:What are frail? Spring blossoms and youth:What are deep ? the ocean and truth.


An emerald is as green as grass;  A ruby red as blood;A sapphire shines as blue as heaven;  A flint lies in the mud. A diamond is a brilliant stone,  To catch the world’s desire;An opal holds a fiery spark;;;But a flint holds fire.

A Bird Song

It’s a year almost that I have not seen her:Oh, last summer green things were greener,Brambles fewer, the blue sky bluer. It’s surely summer, for there’s a swallow:Come one swallow, his mate will follow,The bird race quicken and wheel and thicken. Oh happy swallow whose mate will followO’er height, o’er hollow! I’d be a swallow,To…

He And She

“Should one of us remember,  And one of us forget,I wish I knew what each will do–  But who can tell as yet?” “Should one of us remember,  And one of us forget,I promise you what I will do–And I’m content to wait for you,;;And not be sure as yet.”

Diamond Or Coal

A diamond or a coal?  A diamond, if you please:Who cares about a clumsy coal  Beneath the summer trees? A diamond or a coal?  A coal, sir, if you please:One comes to care about the coal  What time the waters freeze.

The Peacock

The peacock has a score of eyes,  With which he cannot see;The cod-fish has a silent sound,  However that may be; No dandelions tell the time,  Although they turn to clocks;Cat’s-cradle does not hold the cat,;;Nor foxglove fit the fox.


Winter is cold-hearted,  Spring is yea and nay,Autumn is a weathercock  Blown every way:Summer days for me  When every leaf is on its tree; When Robin’s not a beggar,;;And Jenny Wren’s a bride,And larks hang singing, singing, singing,  Over the wheat-fields wide,  And anchored lilies ride,And the pendulum spider  Swings from side to side, And blue-black beetles transact business,  And gnats fly…

Song (Two Doves Upon The Selfsame Branch)

Two doves upon the selfsame branch,  Two lilies on a single stem,Two butterflies upon one flower:–  O happy they who look on them. Who look upon them hand in hand  Flushed in the rosy summer light;Who look upon them hand in hand  And never give a thought to night.

The Half Moon

The half moon shows a face of plaintive sweetness  Ready and poised to wax or wane;A fire of pale desire in incompleteness,  Tending to pleasure or to pain:–Lo, while we gaze she rolleth on in fleetness  To perfect loss or perfect gain. Half bitterness we know, we know half sweetness;  This world is all on wax, on wane:When shall…

On Keats

A garden in a garden: a green spot  Where all is green: most fitting slumber-place  For the strong man grown weary of a raceSoon over. Unto him a goodly lotHath fallen in fertile ground; there thorns are not,  But his own daisies: silence, full of grace,  Surely hath shed a quiet on his face:His earth is but sweet leaves…

I Will Arise

Weary and weak,–accept my weariness;  Weary and weak and downcast in my soul,With hope growing less and less,  And with the goalDistant and dim,–accept my sore distress.I thought to reach the goal so long ago,  At outset of the race I dreamed of rest,Not knowing what now I know  Of breathless haste,  Of long-drawn straining effort across the waste. One…

A Green Cornfield

“And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.” The earth was green, the sky was blue:  I saw and heard one sunny mornA skylark hang between the two,  A singing speck above the corn; A stage below, in gay accord,  White butterflies danced on the wing,And still the singing skylark soared  And silent sank, and soared to sing….

Cardinal Newman

“In the grave, whither thou goest.” O weary Champion of the Cross, lie still:  Sleep thou at length the all-embracing sleep:  Long was thy sowing day, rest now and reap:Thy fast was long, feast now thy spirit’s fill.Yea, take thy fill of love, because thy will;;Chose love not in the shallows but the deep:;;Thy tides were springtides,…

Have You Forgotten?

Have you forgotten how one Summer night  We wandered forth together with the moon,  While warm winds hummed to us a sleepy tune?Have you forgotten how you praised both lightAnd darkness; not embarrassed yet not quite  At ease? and how you said the glare of noon  Less pleased you than the stars? but very soonYou blushed, and seemed to…


I sigh at day-dawn, and I sighWhen the dull day is passing by.I sigh at evening, and againI sigh when night brings sleep to men.Oh!  it were far better to dieThan thus forever mourn and sigh,And in death’s dreamless sleep to beUnconscious that none weep for me;Eased from my weight of heaviness,Forgetful of forgetfulness,Resting from care…

Roses On A Brier

Roses on a brier,  Pearls from out the bitter sea,Such is earth’s desire;;However pure it be. Neither bud nor brier,;;Neither pearl nor brine for me:Be stilled, my long desire;;;There shall be no more sea. Be stilled, my passionate heart;;;Old earth shall end, new earth shall be;Be still, and earn thy part;;Where shall be no more sea.

Beauty Is Vain

While roses are so red,  While lilies are so white,Shall a woman exalt her face  Because it gives delight?She’s not so sweet as a rose,;;A lily’s straighter than she,And if she were as red or white  She’d be but one of three. Whether she flush in love’s summer  Or in its winter grow pale,Whether she flaunt her beauty  Or hide…

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