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.


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

Recommended Works

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