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How many desolate creatures on the earth have learnt the simple dues of fellowship and social comfort, in a hospital.

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Age: 55 †
Born: 1806
Born: March 6
Died: 1861
Died: June 30
Essayist
Pamphleteer
Poet
Screenwriter
Translator
Durham
England
Mrs. Browning
Elizabeth Barrett Barrett
Elizabeth Barrett-Browning
Elizaveta Barrett Brauning
Simple
Learnt
Social
Hospitality
Earth
Hospital
Many
Fellowship
Hospitals
Dues
Creatures
Comfort
Desolate

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Much of the possibility of being cheerful comes from the faculty of throwing oneself beyond oneself.
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Every age, Through being beheld too close, is ill-discerned By those who have not lived past it.
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Suddenly, as rare things will, it vanished.
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Love me sweet With all thou art Feeling, thinking, seeing Love me in the Lightest part, Love me in full Being.
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Gaze up at the stars knowing that I see the same sky and wish the same sweet dreams.
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XI I sang his name instead of song Over and over I sang his name: Backward and forward I sang it along, With my sweetest notes, it was still the same! I sang it low, that the slave-girls near Might never guess, from what they could hear, That all the song was a name.
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If thou must love me, let it be for naught except for love's sake only.
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How joyously the young sea-mew Lay dreaming on the waters blue, Whereon our little bark had thrown A little shade, the only one But shadows ever man pursue.
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Wall must get the weather stain Before they grow the ivy.
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The large white owl that with eye is blind, That hath sate for years in the old tree hollow, Is carried away in a gust of wind.
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I, who thought to sink, was caught up into love, and taught the whole of life in a new rhythm.
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Oh, a day in the city-square, there is no such pleasure in life!
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My future will not copy my fair past, I wrote that once. And, thinking at my side my ministering life-angel justified the word by his appealing look upcast to the white throne of God.
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Behold me! I am worthy Of thy loving, for I love thee!
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And that dismal cry rose slowly And sank slowly through the air, Full of spirit's melancholy And eternity's despair And they heard the words it said,- Pan is dead! great Pan is dead! Pan, Pan is dead!
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