Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How he sleepeth
having drunken Weary childhood's mandragore, From his pretty eyes have sunken Pleasures, to make room for more—-Sleeping near the withered nosegay, which he pulled the day before
Nosegays
leave them for the waking: T...

WE overstate the ills of life, and
Imagination (given us to bring
The choirs of singing angels
By God's clear glory) down our earth to

The face, which, duly as the sun,
Rose up for me with life begun,
To mark all bright hours of the day With hourly love, is dimmed away—And yet my days go on, go on
II The tongue which, like a stream, could

AK low to me, my Saviour, low and
From out the hallelujahs, sweet and
Lest I should fear and fall, and miss Thee
Who art not missed by any that entreat

I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless;
That only men incredulous of despair,
Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight
Beat upward to God's throne in loud

Do ye hear the children weeping,
O my brothers, Ere the sorrow comes with years
They are leaning their young heads against their mothers—- And that cannot stop their tears
The young lambs are bleating in the meadows; The young birds...

Five months ago the stream did flow,     The lilies bloomed within the sedge,
And we were lingering to and fro,
Where none will track thee in this snow,     Along the stream, beside the hedge
Ah,