Sweet April-time-O cruel April-time! Year after year returning, with a brow Of promise, and red lips with longing paled, And backward-hidden hands… — Dinah Maria Murlock Craik Copy Share Image
Young Dandelion On a hedge-side Said young Dandelion Who'll be my bride? Said young Dandelion With a sweet air, I have my… — Dinah Maria Murlock Craik Copy Share Image
O the green things growing, the green things growing, The faint sweet smell of the green things growing! I should like to… — Dinah Maria Murlock Craik Copy Share Image
O, the sweet, sweet twilight just before the time of rest, When the black clouds are driven away, and the stormy winds… — Dinah Maria Murlock Craik Copy Share Image
Not perhaps until later life, until the follies, passions, and selfishness of youth have died out, do we . . . recognize… — Dinah Maria Murlock Craik Copy Share Image
A lost love. Deny it who will, ridicule it, treat it as mere imagination and sentiment, the thing is and will be; and women… — Dinah Maria Murlock Craik Copy Share Image
Let every one of us cultivate, in every word that issues from our mouth, absolute truth. I say cultivate, because to very few people - as may be noticed of most young children - does truth, this rigid, literal veracity, come by nature. To many, even who love it and prize it dearly in others, it comes only after the… — Dinah Maria Murlock Craik Copy Share
It is not the smallest use to try to make people good, unless you try at the same time - and they feel that… — Dinah Maria Murlock Craik Copy Share Image
We expect too much from our children. We exact from them a perfection which we are far from carrying out in ourselves; we require… — Dinah Maria Murlock Craik Copy Share Image
Happiness is not an end - it is only a means, and adjunct, a consequence. — Dinah Maria Murlock Craik Copy Share Image
God rest ye, little children; let nothing you afright, For Jesus Christ, your Saviour, was born this happy night; Along the hills of Galilee… — Dinah Maria Murlock Craik Copy Share Image
O, the mulberry-tree is of trees the queen! Bare long after the rest are green; But as the time steals onwards, while none perceives Slowly she clothes herself with leaves-- Hides her fruit under them, hard to find. . . . . But by and by, when the flowers grow few And the fruits are dwindling and small to view--… — Dinah Maria Murlock Craik Copy Share
It is the Christmas time: And up and down 'twixt heaven and earth, In glorious grief and solemn mirth, The shining angels climb. — Dinah Maria Murlock Craik Copy Share Image
There are no judgments so harsh as those of the erring, the inexperienced, and the young. — Dinah Maria Murlock Craik Copy Share Image
