After the click of the shutting. Life to life--
Can the earth do to us, that we should not long
Thy thought so in the letter. I am thine--
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Shut in upon itself and do no harm
Let the worlds sharpness like a clasping knife
I yield the grave for thy sake, and exchange
That thou dost love me. Though the word repeated
Which its own nature doth precipitate,
Comes the fresh Spring in all her green completed.
When our two souls stand up erect and strong,
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Contrarious moods of men recoil away
A place to stand and love in for a day,
Into our deep, dear silence. Let us stay
As brighter ladies do not count it strange,
Sonnet XXV: A Heavy Heart, Belovèd
While thine doth close above it, mediating
Cry, <i>Speak once more--thou lovest!</i> Who can fear
Growing straight, out of mans reach, on the hill.
A place to stand and love in for a day,
And feel as safe as guarded by a charm
And feel as safe as guarded by a charm
Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher,
The lilies of our lives may reassure
As the stringed pearls, each lifted in it藏书网s turn
Valley and wood, without her cuckoo-strain
Into our deep, dear silence. Let us stay
Rather on earth, Beloved,--where the unfit
Be here contented ? Think. In mounting higher,
A heavy heart, Belovèd, have I borne
At either curved point,--what bitter wrong
And let it drop adown thy calmly great
Growing straight, out of mans reach, on the hill.
My heavy heart. Than thou didst bid me bring
And let us hear no sound of human strife
And let us hear no sound of human strife
Cry, Speak once more--thou lovest ! Who can fear
With darkness and the death-hour rounding it.
By a beating heart at dance-time. Hopes apace
Sonnet XXIII
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Wouldst thou miss any life in losing mine ?
I marvelled, my Belovèd, when I read
Because of grave-damps falling round my head ?
Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead,
Betwixt the stars and the unaccomplished fate.
With darkness and the death-hour rounding it.
Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher,
Comes the fresh Spring in all her green completed.
And isolate pure spirits, and permit
For love, to give up acres and degree,
At either curvèd point,--what ９9ｌib•ｎｅt
bitter wrong
And sorrow after sorrow took the place
By a beating heart at dance-time. Hopes apace
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Until the lengthening wings break into fire
After the click of the shutting. Life to life -
Against the stab of worldlings, who if rife
The silver iterance!--only minding, Dear,
Sonnet XXII
Is it indeed so ? If I lay here dead,
Remember, never to the hill or plain,
Valley and wood, without her cuckoo-strain
God only, who made us rich, can make us poor.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
God only, who made us rich, can make us poor.
While my hands tremble? Then my soul, instead
Beloved, I, amid the darkness greeted
Sonnet XXIII: Is It Indeed So?
Are weak to injure. Very whitely still
My near sweet view of Heaven, for earth with thee !
I lean upon thee, Dear, without alarm,
That thou dost love me. Though the word repeated
Too many stars, though each in heaven shall roll,
Then, love me, Love ! look on me--breathe on me !
Deep being! Fast it sinketh, as a thing
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Be here contented? Think. In mounting higher,
Should seem a cuckoo-s99lib.netong, as thou dost treat it,
Sonnet XXIV
The angels would press on us and aspire
From year to year until I saw thy face,
And would the sun for thee more coldly shine
When our two souls stand up erect and strong,
Thy thought so in the letter. I am thine--
Wouldst thou miss any life in losing mine?
Too many flowers, though each shall crown the year ?
And would the sun for thee more coldly shine
Too many flowers, though each shall crown the year?
Their blossoms from their roots, accessible
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Remember, never to the hill or plain,
Are weak to injure. Very whitely still
Alone to heavenly dews that drop not fewer,
But...so much to thee? Can I pour your wine
Say thou dost love me, love me, love me--toll
And sorrow after sorrow took the place
Could scarcely lift above the world forlorn
Betwixt the stars and the unaccomplished fate.
Sonnet XXII: When Our Two Souls Stand Up
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Can the earth do to us, that we should not long
For love, to give up acres and degree,
Then, love me, Love! Look on me--breathe on me!
Rather on earth, Belovèd,--where t99lib.nethe unfit
Alone to heavenly dews that drop not fewer;
To love me also in silence with thy soul.
But . . . so much to thee ? Can I pour thy wine
Sonnet XXI
Beloved, I, amid the darkness greeted
Deep being ! Fast it sinketh, as a thing
Too many stars, though each in heaven shall roll,
Say over again, and yet once over again,
Let the worlds sharpness, like a clasping knife,
As the stringed pearls, each lifted in its turn
I lean upon thee, Dear, without alarm,
As brighter ladies do not count it strange,
In this close hand of Love, now soft and warm,
And let it drop adown thy calmly great
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
By a doubtful spirit-voice, in that doubts pain
Because of grave-damps falling round my head?
Could scarcely lift above the world forlorn
Of all those natural joys as lightly worn
While my hands tremble ? Then my soul, instead
From year to year until I saw thy face,
Sonnet XXIV: Let the Worlds Sharpness
Of dreams of death, resumes lifes lower range.
Until the lengthening wings break into fire
My near sweet view of Heaven, for earth with thee!
Shut in upon itself and do no harm
Against the stab of wo９9liｂ.nｅｔrldlings, who if rife
A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne
Contrarious moods of men recoil away
In this close hand of Love, now soft and warm,
Their blossoms from their roots, accessible
The angels would press on us and aspire
Which its own nature doth precipitate,
To drop some golden orb of perfect song
Sonnet XXV
Say thou dost love me, love me, love me--toll
Of dreams of death, resumes lifes lower range.
I yield the grave for thy sake, and exchange
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
To love me also in silence with thy soul.
I marvelled, my Beloved, when I read
Of all those natural joys as lightly worn
While thine doth close above it, mediating
Were changed to long despairs, till Gods own grace
The lilies of our lives may reassure
Should seem "a cuckoo-song,"as thou dost treat it,
Sonnet XXI: Say Over Again
Say over again, and yet once over again,
And isolate pure spirits, and permit
The silver iterance !--only minding, Dear,
My heavy heart. Then thou didst bid me bring
To drop some golden orb of perfect song
By a doubtful spirit-voice, in that doubts pain
Were changed to long despairs, till Gods own grace