Pain In Pleasure

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

A thought lay like a flower upon mine heart,
And drew around it other thoughts like bees
For multitude, and thirst of sweetnesses;
Whereat rejoicing, I desired the art
Of the Greek whistler, who to wharf and mart
Could lure those insect swarms from orange-trees,
That I might hive with me such thoughts, and please
My soul so, always. Foolish counterpart
Of a weak man's vain wishes While I spoke,
The thought, I called a flower, grew nettle-rough --
The thoughts, called bees, stung me to festering.
Oh, entertain (cried Reason, as she woke,)
Your best and gladdest thoughts but long enough,
And they will all prove sad enough to sting.


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

Recommended Works

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