Mary Elizabeth Coleridge
She was a British novelist and poet, who also wrote essays and reviews. She taught at the London Working Women's College for twelve years from 1895 to 1907. She wrote poetry under the pseudonym Anodos, taken from George MacDonald; other influences on her were Richard Watson Dixon and Christina Rossetti. Robert Bridges,the Poet Laureate,described her poems as 'wonderously beautiful..but mystical rather and enigmatic'
Coleridge published five novels, the best known of those being The King with Two Faces, which earned her £900 in royalties in 1897. She travelled widely throughout her life, although her home was in London, where she lived with her family. Her father was Arthur Duke ... more »
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Mary Elizabeth Coleridge Poems
The earth that made the rose, She also is thy mother, and not I. The flame wherewith thy maiden spirit glows Was lighted at no hearth that I sit by.
Many a flower have I seen blossom, Many a bird for me will sing. Never heard I so sweet a singer, Never saw I so fair a thing.
I HAVE walked a great while over the snow, And I am not tall nor strong. My clothes are wet, and my teeth are set, And the way was hard and long.
Strange Power, I know not what thou art, Murderer or mistress of my heart. I know I'd rather meet the blow Of my most unrelenting foe
The Other Side Of A Mirror
I sat before my glass one day, And conjured up a vision bare, Unlike the aspects glad and gay, That erst were found reflected there -
Blue And White
BLUE is Our Lady’s colour, White is Our Lord’s. To-morrow I will wear a knot Of blue and white cords,
I Ask Of Thee, Love, Nothing But Relief
|WE were young, we were merry, we were very very wise, And the door stood open at our feast, When there passed us a woman with the West in her eyes, And a man with his back to the East.
‘he Came Unto His Own, And His Own Recei...
As Christ the Lord was passing by, He came, one night, to a cottage door. He came, a poor man, to the poor; He had no bed whereon to lie.
Death And The Lady
TURN in, my lord, she said ; As it were the Father of Sin I have hated the Father of the Dead, The slayer of my kin ;
MOTHER of God! no lady thou: Common woman of common earth Our Lady ladies call thee now, But Christ was never of gentle birth;
Grant me but a day, love, But a day, Ere I give my heart, My heart away,
Good Friday In My Heart
GOOD FRIDAY in my heart! Fear and affright! My thoughts are the Disciples when they fled, My words the words that priest and soldier said, My deed the spear to desecrate the dead.
The Deserted House
There's no smoke in the chimney, And the rain beats on the floor; There's no glass in the window,
The earth that made the rose,
She also is thy mother, and not I.
The flame wherewith thy maiden spirit glows
Was lighted at no hearth that I sit by.
I am as far below as heaven above thee.
Were I thine angel, more I could not love thee.
Bid me defend thee!
Thy danger over-human strength shall lend me,
A hand of iron and a heart of steel,
To strike, to wound, to slay, and not to feel.
But if you chide me,
I am a weak, defenceless child beside thee.