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11 voters
The Complete Poems (Penguin Classics)
Christina Rossetti is unique among Victorian poets for the sheer range of her subject matter and the variety of her verse form. This first fully annotated collection, based on the definitive texts, brings together fantasy poems such as "Goblin Market," terrifyingly vivid verses for children, love lyrics, sonnets, hymns, and ballads, as well as the vast body of he...more
Paperback, 1312 pages
Published
November 1st 2001
by Penguin Classics
(first published 1979)
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Of all of the poets of the Victorian Era, it is my humble opinion that Christina Georgina Rossetti is arguably one of the very best. In fact, I believe her only rival to be Emily Dickinson. I have spent the last two months carefully reading and studying Christina Rossetti's poetry, and am amazed at her ability to craft a poem full of visual imagery, emotion, and so much meaning. She does not hide her feelings or her thoughts on subjects such as life, death, spirituality, love, betrayal, lust,...more
I have never been a huge fan of poetry but Christina Rossetti's poems have changed my views. Her poems are very descriptive and almost musical to read. Some poetry can be difficult to understand but Rossetti writes in such a way as to be easily understood. Whether she is criticizing or supporting the beliefs of her time, her message always comes through in a way most readers can find pleasing.
I didn't actually read the whole thing - just the two volumes with "The Goblin Market" and "The Prince's Progress." I'd never read Christina Rossetti before, and I have to say I really liked her poetry. I'm not sure I enjoy all of the themes she likes to discuss, but I like her style and her subject matter. If you like Victorian poetry, you should try it!
I haven't actually read every single poem in this book -- that would take a lot longer than this -- but I've dipped in and out of it. Christina Rossetti's writing is lovely and rich. 'Goblin Market' is probably the best known, or it's the one I knew anyway, and that's a good example of how rich and sensual her writing can be, but the rest of her poetry is definitely worth a look, too.
I've always described poetry as the greatest medium for transmuting mental phenomena into words while retaining something more than just symbols, even thought most poetry I unhesitatingly consider to be some of the worst writing in human history. That being said, Christina Rossetti has the written the most best poetry of anyone I've yet encountered (excluding Poe, who, though talented beyond his credit, is, after all, Romantic in the pejorative sense of more often placating his audience's feeli...more
I absolutely love Christina Rossetti.
I really do love her
Honest, heartbreaking, lovely. Truly beautiful poetry.
Dante Gabriel Rossetti's sister and a member of the Pre-Raphaelite Art Movement.
Victorian poetry.
Victorian poetry.
Goblin Market is of course one of the great 19th Century poems. Creepy, gothic, sensual, marvelous.
Read for "Introduction to Literary Studies," gateway for the English major, SP08. Sara Maurer.
I love her poetry. I know not everyone does, but I do.
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Christina Georgina Rossetti, one of the most important women poets writing in nineteenth-century England, was born in London December 5, 1830, to Gabriele and Frances (Polidori) Rossetti. Although her fundamentally religious temperament was closer to her mother's, this youngest member of a remarkable family of poets, artists, and critics inherited many of her artistic tendencies from her father.
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1 trivia question
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“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 I may forget.”
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74 people liked it
More quotes…
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 I may forget.”

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