Pas takimit time me autoren e librit " A Collection of Victorian Poems 1894-95" dhe duke pare qe une isha teper i interesuar per te ditur se si shkruanin ne ate kohe ose te pakten, menyra se si i shikonin, gjerat pereth tyre dhe si i shprehshin me fjale, ajo me beri nje dhurate, qe me la me goj hapur. Ne faqen e par, pas kapakut shkruan " To Drilon with regards from, Marie Louise Reeves."

Marie Louise Reeves, ka lindur dhe eshte rritur ne Londer ne periudhen e luftes se dyte boterore, dhe ka qene gjithmone e interesuar per kohen e "Victoria`s"
Keto jane disa poezi qe ajo ka seleksionuar ne vite, te shkruar nga autor te ndryshem.Po postoj disa nga serite ketu...

The days are dull, the blast is cold,
And on its wintry breath is borne
The last sere leaf of faded gold,
From yonder shivering elm tree torn.

There are no flowers about the lawn,
All brown and cheerless is the brake
Which blackbirds at the early dawn
Were wont so musical to make.

Along the eaves no nestling wing
The swallows` presence now betrays
The linnets have no heart to sing
In sad November`s short chill days.

Not sad November unto me.
November days are blithe enow,
Though fled is blossom, bird and bee,
Though shorn the leaf from bush and bough.

The sunless hours with hope are glad,
The wind sounds cheery to my ear,
E`en though the hills with snow be clad,
"Tis but the nest time of the year.

And mother nature does but sleep,
In lusty strength to wake anew;
Next blossom-time she`ll gainly keep
Her revels neath the skies of blue!