by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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 marriage-bell,
The bride weeps; and before the oracle
Of high-faned hills, the poet hath forgot
That moisture on his cheeks. Thank God for grace,
Whoever weep; albeit, as some have done,
Ye grope tear-blinded, in a desert place,
And touch but tombs, -- look up! Those tears will run
Soon, in long rivers, down the lifted face,
And leave the vision clear for stars and sun.


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

Recommended Works

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