Sara Coleridge
Sara Coleridge Poems
January brings the snow,
makes our feet and fingers glow.
February brings the rain,
...
See yon blithe child that dances in our sight!
Can gloomy shadows fall from one so bright?
Fond mother, whence these fears?
While buoyantly he rushes o'er the lawn,
...
ONE face alone, one face alone,
These eyes require;
But, when that long’d-for sight is shown,
What fatal fire
...
O sleep, my babe, hear not the rippling wave,
Nor feel the breeze that round thee ling'ring strays
To drink thy balmy breath,
And sigh one long farewell.
...
HE came unlook’d for, undesir’d,
A sunrise in the northern sky,
More than the brightest dawn admir’d,
To shine and then forever fly.
...
In April comes the Nightingale,
That sings when day's departed;
The poets call her Philomel,
And vow she's broken-hearted.
...
Sara Coleridge Biography
Sara was the fourth child and only daughter of the poet Samuel Taylor Coleridge. She grew up in the Lake district with an extended family that included her uncle, Robert Southey, and her aunt Lovell, widow of the poet Robert Lovell. The Wordsworths were her neighbors. She was educated at home by various relatives, especially Southey. Her first published work was a translation she did for him while he was writing the Tale of Paraguay. Her next work was translating from medieval French. Sara married her cousin, Henry Nelson Coleridge, in 1829. Verses she wrote for her own children were published and very popular, as was the fairy story. After Henry's death in 1843, Sara was left with the task of editing her father's works.)
The Best Poem Of Sara Coleridge
The Months
January brings the snow,
makes our feet and fingers glow.
February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.
March brings breezes loud and shrill,
stirs the dancing daffodil.
April brings the primrose sweet,
Scatters daises at our feet.
May brings flocks of pretty lambs,
Skipping by their fleecy damns.
June brings tulips, lilies, roses,
Fills the children's hand with posies.
Hot july brings cooling showers,
Apricots and gillyflowers.
August brings the sheaves of corn,
Then the harvest home is borne.
Warm september brings the fruit,
Sportsmen then begin to shoot.
Fresh October brings the pheasents,
Then to gather nuts is pleasent.
Dull November brings the blast,
Then the leaves are whirling fast.
Chill December brings the sleet,
Blazing fire, and Christmas treat.
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