by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

And, O beloved voices, upon which
Ours passionately call, because erelong
Ye brake off in the middle of that song
We sang together softly, to enrich
The poor world with the sense of love, and witch
The heart out of things evil, -- I am strong, --
Knowing ye are not lost for aye among
The hills, with last year's thrush. God keeps a niche
In Heaven to hold our idols: and albeit
He brake them to our faces, and denied
That our close kisses should impair their white, --
I know we shall behold them raised, complete, --
The dust shook from their beauty, -- glorified
New Memnons singing in the great God-light.


The Poems Of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Volume 1
Copyright 1853
C. S. Francis & Co., 262 Broadway, New York
Crosby & Nichols, Boston

Recommended Works

Substitution - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningOn A Picture Of Leander - John KeatsKeats's Last Sonnet - John KeatsTo J. H. Reynolds - John KeatsRead me a lesson, Muse, and speak it loud - John KeatsThe Two Sayings - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningPatience Taught By Nature - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTears - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningYet are there sunbeams, though the kingly sun... - Anne WhitneyThe Look - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningC. L'E. - Anne WhitneyO Mankind's God! most silent and most lowly - Anne WhitneyAdequacy - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningBereavement - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThe Same (Might we make quest ...) - Anne WhitneyPast And Future - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningWithin my life another life runs deep, - Anne WhitneyAfter dark vapors have oppress'd our plains ... - John KeatsThe Meaning Of The Look - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningI cry your mercy -- pity -- love -- ay, love ... - John KeatsTo _. (Time's sea hath been five years at its low ebb, ...) - John KeatsSo reed-like fragile, in the world's whirl nought... - Anne WhitneyAlas! and yesternight I woke in terror, - Anne WhitneyOn A Dream - John KeatsOn First Looking Into Chapman's Homer - John KeatsAnswer To A Sonnet Ending Thus: -- - John KeatsTo A Friend Who Sent Me Some Roses - John KeatsThree Flowers - Thomas Bailey AldrichThe Seraph And Poet - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningWork (What are we set on earth for? ...) - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThou seem'st to solve the eternal unity... - Anne WhitneyDiscontent - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThe world is with me, and its many cares... - Thomas HoodConsolation - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningOf better fortune coming, then, talk not... - Anne WhitneyFuturity - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningOn Leigh Hunt's Poem, The Story Of Rimini. - John KeatsTo one who has been long in city pent, ... - John KeatsContinence - Anne WhitneyFor The Fourteenth Of February - Thomas HoodTo Fancy - Thomas HoodWhen I have fears that I may cease to be ... - John KeatsA Thought For A Lonely Death-Bed - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThe Same (Twas then we said...) - Anne WhitneyThe Prisoner - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningWritten In The Cottage Where Burns Was Born - John KeatsTo ____. (My heart is sick with longing, though I feed) - Thomas HoodDarkness surrounds me with its phantom hosts... - Anne WhitneyKeen Fitful Gusts Are Whispering Here And There - John KeatsOn Seeing The Elgin Marbles - John KeatsTo A Young Lady Who Sent Me A Laurel Crown. - John KeatsFalse Poets And True - Thomas HoodPerplexed Music - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningInsufficiency - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningExaggeration - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningO night, a terrible dismay still lurks... - Anne WhitneyHow bravely Autumn paints upon the sky - Thomas HoodTo _. (Had I a man's fair form, then might my sighs ...) - John KeatsTo My Brother George - John KeatsLargess from seven-fold heavens, I pray, descend... - Anne WhitneyWhy did I laugh to-night? - John KeatsNight - Anne WhitneyOn Sitting Down To Read King Lear Once Again. - John KeatsTo Homer - John KeatsTO G. A. W. - John KeatsOn A Portrait Of Wordsworth - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningIt is not death, that sometime in a sigh... - Thomas HoodHappy is England! I could be content ... - John KeatsNo slight caprice rules thee. -- Who sounds one note... - Anne WhitneyTo An Enthusiast - Thomas HoodOn Fame (How fever'd is the man, who cannot look ...) - John KeatsO high-born souls, such as God sends to mould... - Anne WhitneyOn The Grasshopper And Cricket - John KeatsThe day is gone, and all its sweets are gone! ... - John KeatsTo George Sand: A Desire - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningWritten On The Day That Mr. Leigh Hunt Left Prison - John KeatsTo Haydon - John KeatsOn The Sea - John KeatsIn the still hours, a stiller strength was born - Anne WhitneyO solitude! if I must with thee dwell, - John KeatsAn Apprehension - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningBy every sweet tradition of true hearts,... - Thomas HoodTo Kosciusko - John KeatsPain In Pleasure - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningThe Soul's Expression - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningO fair mistrust of earth's more solid shows... - Anne WhitneyTo The Spirit - Anne WhitneyGrief - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningCheerfulness Taught By Reason - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningTo Sleep - John KeatsIrreparableness - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningAddressed To Haydon - John KeatsFrom all these mounds, though day blows fresh and warm, - Anne WhitneyTo Ailsa Rock - John KeatsComfort (Speak low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet ...) - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningOn Fame (Fame, like a wayward girl, will still be coy ...). - John KeatsI know this spirit bridges unknown space... - Anne WhitneyOh! how I love, on a fair summer's eve, ... - John KeatsStoop low, dear Night, a little star-breeze wakes - Anne WhitneyOn Receiving A Gift - Thomas HoodI dreamed an angel, Angel twice, through death... - Anne WhitneyTo The Same - Anne WhitneyTo The Nile - John KeatsThe Human Seasons - John KeatsHow many bards gild the lapses of time! - John KeatsThis pleasant tale is like a little copse: ... - John KeatsTo My Brother - John KeatsIf by dull rhymes our English must be chain'd ... - John KeatsSonnet To A Sonnet - Thomas HoodTo George Sand: A Recognition - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningAddressed To The Same - John KeatsWork And Contemplation - Elizabeth Barrett BrowningAnd for that thou art Beauty, and thy name... - Anne WhitneyTo The Ocean - Thomas HoodOn Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour - John KeatsTo A Sleeping Child - Thomas HoodDark rolling clouds in wild confusion driven... - Caroline Bowles SoutheyLear - Thomas HoodThe Passion Flower - Anne Whitney