·
1 мин
Слушать

Sonnet XXXVIII First Time He Kissed Me

First time he kissed me, he but only

The finger of this hand wherewith I write;

And ever since, it grew more clean and white,

Slow to world-greetings, quick with its "Oh, list,"When the angels speak.

A ring of amethystI could not wear here, plainer to my sight,

Than that first kiss.

The second passed in

The first, and sought the forehead, and half missed,

Half falling on the hair.

O beyond meed!

That was the chrism of love, which love's own crown,

With sanctifying sweetness, did precede.

The third upon my lips was folded

In perfect, purple state; since when, indeed,

I have been proud and said, "My love, my own."

0
0
66
Подарок

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Elizabeth Barrett Browning (née Moulton-Barrett, /ˈbraʊnɪŋ/; 6 March 1806 – 29 June 1861) was an English poet of the Victorian era, popular in B…
Комментарии
Вам нужно войти , чтобы оставить комментарий
Сегодня читают
Ryfma
Ryfma - это социальная сеть для публикации книг, стихов и прозы, для общения писателей и читателей. Публикуй стихи и прозу бесплатно.