by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

When I attain to utter forth in verse
Some inward thought, my soul throbs audibly
Along my pulses, yearning to be free
And something farther, fuller, higher, rehearse,
To the individual, true, and the universe,
In consummation of right harmony.
But, like a wind-exposed, distorted tree,
We are blown against for ever by the curse
Which breathes through nature. O, the world is weak --
The effluenee of each is false to all;
And what we best conceive, we fail to speak.
Wait, soul, until thine ashen garments fall!
And then resume thy broken strains, and seek
Fit peroration, without let or thrall.


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

Recommended Works

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