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First time he kissed me, he but only kissed The fingers of this hand wherewith I write And, ever since, it grew more clean and white.

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
Firsts
Clean
First
Grew
Writing
Hand
Time
Since
White
Wherewith
Write
Kissed
Hands
Kissing
Ever
Fingers

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OF writing many books there is no end And I who have written much in prose and verse For others' uses, will write now for mine,- Will write my story for my better self, As when you paint your portrait for a friend, Who keeps it in a drawer and looks at it Long after he has ceased to love you, just To hold together what he was and is.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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That headlong ivy! not a leaf will grow But thinking of a wreath, . . . I like such ivy bold to leap a height 'Twas strong to climb! as good to grow on graves As twist about a thyrsus pretty too (And that's not ill) when twisted round a comb.
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The exchange of sympathy for gratitude is the most princely thing!
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O brave poets, keep back nothing Nor mix falsehood with the whole! Look up Godward! speak the truth in Worthy song from earnest soul! Hold, in high poetic duty, Truest Truth the fairest Beauty.
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There's nothing great Nor small, has said a poet of our day, Whose voice will ring beyond the curfew of eve And not be thrown out by the matin's bell.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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The Greeks said grandly in their tragic phrase, 'Let no one be called happy till his death' to which I would add, 'Let no one, till his death, be called unhappy.'
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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.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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It was not the apple on the tree but the pair on the ground that caused the trouble in the garden of Eden.
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Every wish Is like a prayer--with God.
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There Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb The crowns o' the world oh, eyes sublime With tears and laughter for all time!
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It is difficult to get rid of people when you once have given them too much pleasure.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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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!
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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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.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Children use the fist until they are of age to use the brain.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Much of the possibility of being cheerful comes from the faculty of throwing oneself beyond oneself.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Free men freely work: Whoever fears God, fears to sit at ease.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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Pan is dead! great Pan is dead! Pan, Pan is dead!
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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What is art but the life upon the larger scale, the higher. When, graduating up in a spiral line of still expanding and ascending gyres, it pushes toward the intense significance of all things, hungry for the infinite?
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And Chaucer, with his infantine Familiar clasp of things divine.
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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 woe. Sing, seraph, poet! sing on equally!
Elizabeth Barrett Browning