Author: Elizabeth Barrett Browning

THOU large-brained woman and large-hearted man, Self-called George Sand! whose soul, amid the lions Of thy tumultuous senses, moans defiance […]

How he sleepeth! having drunken Weary childhood’s mandragore, From his pretty eyes have sunken Pleasures, to make room for more […]

I HAVE been in the meadows all the day And gathered there the nosegay that you see Singing within myself […]

I think that look of Christ might seem to say ‘Thou Peter! art thou then a common stone Which I […]

I The face, which, duly as the sun, Rose up for me with life begun, To mark all bright hours […]

We walked beside the sea, After a day which perished silently Of its own glory – like the Princess weird […]

Five months ago the stream did flow, The lilies bloomed within the sedge, And we were lingering to and fro, […]

The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods, against a stormy sky, Their giant […]

Thou comest! all is said without a word. I sit beneath thy looks, as children do In the noon-sun, with […]

I would build a cloudy House For my thoughts to live in; When for earth too fancy-loose And too low […]

I count the dismal time by months and years Since last I felt the green sward under foot, And the […]

O Rose! who dares to name thee? No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet; But pale, and hard, and […]

I never gave a lock of hair away To a man, Dearest, except this to thee, Which now upon my […]

Beloved, thou hast brought me many flowers Plucked in the garden, all the summer through And winter, and it seemed […]

Two savings of the Holy Scriptures beat Like pulses in the Church’s brow and breast; And by them we find […]

I LEFT thee last, a child at heart, A woman scarce in years: I come to thee, a solemn corpse […]

Indeed this very love which is my boast, And which, when rising up from breast to brow, Doth crown me […]

A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne From year to year until I saw thy face, And sorrow after sorrow […]

The woman singeth at her spinning-wheel A pleasant chant, ballad or barcarole; She thinketh of her song, upon the whole, […]

She has laughed as softly as if she sighed, She has counted six, and over, Of a purse well filled, […]