Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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Elizabeth Barrett Browning (née Moulton-Barrett, /ˈbraʊnɪŋ/; 6 March 1806 – 29 June 1861) was an English poet of the Victorian era, popular in Britain and the United States during her lifetime.
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Sonnet XLIII How Do I Love Thee

How do I love thee
Let me count the ways
I love thee to the depth and breadth and
My soul can reach, when feeling out of
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The Best Thing in the World

What's the best thing in the world
June-rose, by May-dew impearled;
Sweet south-wind, that means no rain;
Truth, not cruel to a friend;
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The Sweetness Of England

And when, at
Escaped,-so many a green slope built on
Betwixt me and the enemy's house behind,
I dared to rest, or wander,-like a
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De Profundis

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
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The Romaunt of Margret excerpts

IX“My lips do need thy breath, My lips do need thy smile, And my pallid eyne, that light in thine Which met the stars erewhile: Yet go with light and life If that thou lovest one In all the earth who loveth thee As truly as the sun
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Pain In Pleasure

HT ay like a flower upon mine heart,
And drew around it other thoughts like
For multitude and thirst of sweetnesses;
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Cry Of The Children

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...
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Sonnet XXII When Our Two Souls Stand Up

When our two souls stand up erect and strong,
Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher,
Until the lengthening wings break into fire At either curvèd point,—what bitter wrong Can the earth do to us, that we should not long Be here co...
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Patience Taught By Nature

RY life,' we cry, ' O dreary life
'And still the generations of the
Sing through our sighing, and the flocks and
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NK God, bless God, all ye who suffer
More grief than ye can weep for
That is well—That is light grieving
lighter, none
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The Souls Expression

TH stammering lips and insufficient soundI strive and struggle to deliver
That music of my nature, day and
With dream and thought and feeling
And inly answering all the senses
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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
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Sonnet XIV If Thou Must Love Me

If thou must love me, let it be for
Except for love's sake only
Do not say"I love her for her smile—her look—her
Of speaking gently,—for a trick of
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Lord Walters Wife

I'But where do you go
' said the lady, while both sat under the yew,
And her eyes were alive in their depth, as the kraken beneath the sea-blue
II'Because I fear you,' he answered;—'because you are far too fair,
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EN some beloved voice that was to
Both sound and sweetness, faileth suddenly,
And silence, against which you dare not cry,
Aches round you like a strong disease and new—What hope
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Sonnet XXIX I Think of Thee

I think of thee
— my thoughts do twine and bud About thee,as wild vines, about a tree,
Put out broad leaves, and soon there's nought to see Except the straggling green which hides the wood
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