Remember by Christina Rossetti

    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.
    Remember me when no more day by day
        You tell me of our future that you planned:
        Only remember me; you understand
    It will be late to counsel then or pray.
    Yet if you should forget me for a while
        And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
        For if the darkness and corruption leave
        A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
    Better by far you should forget and smile
        Than that you should remember and be sad.

A Wintry Sonnet by Christina Rossetti

    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 cannot fill the main.
    When springtime came, red Robin built a nest,
    And trilled a lover's song in sheer delight.
    Gray hoarfrost vanished, and the Rose with might
    Clothed her in leaves and buds of crimson core.
    The dim Moon brightened. Ocean sunned his crest,
    Dimpled his blue, - yet thirsted evermore.

Who Has Seen the Wind? by Christina Rossetti

Who has seen the wind?
Neither I nor you:
But when the leaves hang trembling
The wind is passing thro’.
Who has seen the wind?
Neither you nor I:
But when the trees bow down their heads
The wind is passing by.

Song by Christina Rossetti

    When I am dead, my dearest,
        Sing no sad songs for me;
    Plant thou no roses at my head,
        Nor shady cypress tree:
    Be the green grass above me
        With showers and dewdrops wet;
    And if thou wilt, remember,
        And if thou wilt, forget.

    I shall not see the shadows,
        I shall not feel the rain;
    I shall not hear the nightingale
        Sing on, as if in pain:
    And dreaming through the twilight
        That doth not rise nor set,
    Haply I may remember,
        And haply may forget.