Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Gender: 
Female
  • Two sayings of the Holy Scriptures beat
    Like pulses in the Church’s brow and breast;
    And by them we find rest in our unrest,
    And heart-deep in salt tears, do yet entreat
    God’s fellowship, as if on heavenly seat.
    The first is Jesus wept, whereon is prest...

  • Speak low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet
    From out the hallelujahs, sweet and low,
    Lest I should fear and fall, and miss thee so
    Who art not missed by any that entreat.
    Speak to me as Mary at thy feet—
    And if no precious gums my hands bestow,
    Let...

  • Thank God, bless God, all ye who suffer not
    More grief than ye can weep for. That is well—
    That is light grieving! lighter, none befell,
    Since Adam forfeited the primal lot.
    Tears! what are tears? The babe weeps in its cot,
    The mother singing; at her...

  • The Face which, duly as the sun,
    Rose up for me with life begun,
    To mark all bright hours of the day
    With daily love, is dimmed away—
        And yet my days go on, go on.

    The tongue which, like a stream, could run
    Smooth music from the roughest...

  •  “He giveth his belovèd sleep.”
    —PSALM cxxvii. 2.    

    OF all the thoughts of God that are
    Borne inward unto souls afar,
    Among the Psalmist’s music deep,
    Now tell me if that any is,
    For gift or grace, surpassing this,—
    “He giveth his belovèd...

  • Turin,—After News from Gaëta, 1861
       Laura Savio of Turin, a poetess and patriot, whose sons were killed at Ancona and Gaëta.

    DEAD! one of them shot by the sea in the east,
      And one of them shot in the west by the sea.
    Dead! both my boys! When you sit at the...

  • I Tell you, hopeless grief is passionless,—
    That only men incredulous of despair,
    Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air
    Beat upwards to God’s throne in loud access
    Of shrieking and reproach. Full desertness,
    In souls as countries lieth silent-...

  • “but why do you go?” said the lady, while both sate under the yew,
    And her eyes were alive in their depth, as the kraken beneath the sea-blue.

    “Because I fear you,” he answered;—“because you are far too fair,
    And able to strangle my soul in a mesh of your gold-colored...

  • 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...

  • Because thou hast the power and own’st the grace
    To look through and behind this mask of me,
    (Against which, years have beat thus blanchingly
    With their rains,) and behold my soul’s true face,
    The dim and weary witness of life’s race,—
    Because thou hast...