Quotes
-
-
-
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height. My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight. For the ends of being and ideal grace. I love thee to the level of every day's. Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for right. I love thee purely, as they turn from praise. I love thee with the passion put to use. In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose. With my lost...
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
And wilt thou have me fashion into speech. The love I bear thee, finding words enough, And hold the torch out, while the winds are rough, Between our faces, to cast light on each? -I dropt it at thy feet. I cannot teach. My hand to hold my spirits so far off. From myself--me--that I should bring thee proof. In words, of love hid in me out of reach. Nay, let the silence of my womanhood. Commend my woman-love to thy belief, -Seeing that I stand unwon, however wooed, And rend the garment of my...
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Enough! we're tired, my heart and I. We sit beside the headstone thus, And wish that name were carved for us. The moss reprints more tenderly. The hard types of the mason's knife, As Heaven's sweet life renews earth's life. With which we're tired, my heart and I .... In this abundant earth no doubt. Is little room for things worn out: Disdain them, break them, throw them by! And if before the days grew rough. We once were loved, used, - well enough, I think, we've fared, my heart and I.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
If thou must love me, let it be for nought. Except for love's sake only. Do not say'I love her for her smile ... her look ... her way. Of speaking gently, ... for a trick of thought. That falls in well with mine, and certes brought. A sense of pleasant ease on such a day'For these things in themselves, Beloved, may. Be changed, or change for thee,--and love, so wrought, May be unwrought so. Neither love me for. Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry, A creature might forget to weep, who...
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
My letters! all dead paper, mute and white! And yet they seem alive and quivering. Against my tremulous hands which loose the string. And let them drop down on my knee to-night. This said, -- he wished to have me in his sight. Once, as a friend: this fixed a day in spring. To come and touch my hand ... a simple thing, Yet I wept for it! -- this, ... the paper's light ... Said, Dear I love thee; and I sank and quailed. As if God's future thundered on my past. This said, I am thine -- and so...
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed. And worthy of acceptation. Fire is bright, Let temple burn, or flax; an equal light. Leaps in the flame from cedar-plank or weed: And love is fire. And when I say at need. I love thee ... mark! ... I love thee -- in thy sight. I stand transfigured, glorified aright, With conscience of the new rays that proceed. Out of my face toward thine. There's nothing low. In love, when love the lowest: meanest creatures. Who love God, God accepts while loving...
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
OF writing many books there is no end; And I who have written much in prose and verse. For others' uses, will write now for mine,-Will write my story for my better self, As when you paint your portrait for a friend, Who keeps it in a drawer and looks at it. Long after he has ceased to love you, just. To hold together what he was and is.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
- 1
- 2
Popular Author
Related Authors
-
Amiri Baraka Poet -
CA
Carol Ann Duffy Poet
-
Ezra Pound Poet -
JC
John Cleveland Poet
-
Jupiter Hammon Poet -
Paul Engle Poet -
RB
Robert Bly Poet
-
RD
Ruben Dario Poet
-
Shel Silverstein Poet -
WS
William Stafford Poet