Stroke A Flint

Poem By Christina Georgina Rossetti

Stroke a flint, and there is nothing to admire:
Strike a flint, and forthwith flash out sparks of fire.

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Other poems of ROSSETTI

Remember

Remember me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go yet turning stay.

Echo

Come to me in the silence of the night;
Come in the speaking silence of a dream;
Come with soft rounded cheeks and eyes as bright
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A baby's cradle with no baby in it,
A baby's grave where autumn leaves drop sere;
The sweet soul gathered home to Paradise,

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My heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a water'd shoot;
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A fool I was to sleep at noon,
And wake when night is chilly
Beneath the comfortless cold moon;
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A Better Ressurection

I have no wit, no words, no tears;
My heart within me like a stone
Is numbed too much for hopes or fears.
Look right, look left, I dwell alone;