Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

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Dinah Maria Craik (/kreɪk/; born Dinah Maria Mulock, also often credited as Miss Mulock or Mrs. Craik) (20 April 1826 – 12 October 1887) was an English novelist and poet.
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Four Years

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At the Midsummer, when the hay was down,
Said I mournful - Though my life be in its prime,
Bare lie my meadows all shorn before their time,
O'er my sere woodlands the leaves are turning brown;
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Resigning

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"Poor heart, what bitter words we speak When God speaks of resigning
" Children, that lay their pretty garlands by So piteously, yet with a humble mind;
Sailors, who, when their ship rocks in the wind,
Cast out her freight...
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The Unknown Country

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RE is the unknown country
" I whispered sad and slow,-- "The strange and awful country To which I soon must go, must go,
To which I soon must go
" Out of the unknown country A voice sang soft and low:-- "O pleasa...
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The Good Of It

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A Cynic's Song
ME men strut proudly, all purple and gold,
Hiding queer deeds 'neath a cloak of good fame;
I creep along, braving hunger and cold,
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Immutable

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MN to winter, winter into spring,
Spring into summer, summer into fall,-- So rolls the changing year, and so we change;
Motion so swift, we know not that we move
Till at the gate of some memorial hour We pause--look in its sepulchre...
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Labor Is Prayer

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RE est orare:
We, black-visaged sons of toil,
From the coal-mine and the anvil And the delving of the soil,-- From the loom, the wharf, the warehouse,
And the ever-whirling mill,
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Only a Woman

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"She loves with love that cannot tire:     And if, ah, woe
she loves alone,    Through passionate duty love flames higher,     As grass grows taller round a stone
"            Coventry Patmore
SO, the truth's out
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Mortality

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"And we shall be changed
""And we shall be changed
" Ye dainty mosses, lichens grey, Pressed each to each in tender fold, And peacefully thus, day by day, Returning to their mould; Brown leaves, that with aerial grace...
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A Fable

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NT and sunny was the way Where Youth and I danced on together:
So winding and embowered o'er,
We could not see one rood before
Nevertheless all merrily We bounded onward,
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The Mother’s Visit

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NG years ago she visited my chamber,
Steps soft and slow, a taper in her hand;
Her fond kiss she laid upon my eyelids,
Fair as an angel from the unknown land:
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In Our Boat

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Stars trembling o'er us and sunset before us,
Mountains in shadow and forests asleep;
Down the dim river we float on forever,
Speak not, ah, breathe not - there's peace on the deep
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Westward Ho!

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We should not sit us down and sigh,
My girl, whose brow a fane appears,
Whose steadfast eyes look royally Backwards and forwards o'er the years-- The long, long years of conquered time,
The possible years unwon, that slope Before us...
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To A Beautiful Woman

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LY, dame Nature made you in some dream Of old-world women--Chriemhild, or bright Aslauga, or Boadicea fierce and fair,
Or Berengaria as she rose, her lips Yet ruddy from the poison that anoints Her memory still, the queen of queenly wives
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Green Things Growing

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O the green things growing, the green things growing,
The faint sweet smell of the green things growing
I should like to live, whether I smile or grieve,
Just to watch the happy life of my green things growing
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Plighted

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Mine to the core of the heart, my beauty
Mine, all mine, and for love, not duty:
Love given willingly, full and free,
Love for love's sake, - as mine to thee
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Her Likeness

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A
RL, who has so many wilful ways She would have caused Job's patience to forsake him;
Yet is so rich in all that's girlhood's praise,
Did Job himself upon her goodness gaze,
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