The Seraph And Poet

by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

The seraph sings before the manifest
God-one, and in the burning of the Seven,
And with the full life of consummate Heaven
Heaving beneath him like a mother's breast
Warm with her first-born's slumber in that nest.
The poet sings upon the earth grave-riven
Before the naughty world soon self-forgiven
For wronging him; and in the darkness prest
From his own soul by worldly weights. Even so,
Sing, seraph with the glory! Heaven is high --
Sing, poet with the sorrow! Earth is low.
The universe's inward voices cry
Amen to either song of joy and wo --
Sing seraph, -- poet, -- sing on equally.

Source:

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

Recommended Works

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