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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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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
Dead
Sank
Full
Melancholy
Heard
Slowly
Words
Despair
Spirit
Rose
Great
Cry
Eternity
Air
Dismal
More quotes by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Wall must get the weather stain Before they grow the ivy.
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The essence of all beauty, I call love.
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How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.I love thee to the depth and breadth and height My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
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Free men freely work: Whoever fears God, fears to sit at ease.
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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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The denial of contemporary genius is the rule rather than the exception. No one counts the eagles in the nest, till there is a rush of wings and lo! they are flown.
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It is difficult to get rid of people when you once have given them too much pleasure.
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The soul's Rialto hath its merchandise, I barter for curl upon that mart.
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Nor myrtle--which means chiefly love: and love Is something awful which one dare not touch So early o' mornings.
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O pusillanimous Heart, be comforted And, like a cheerful traveller, take the road Singing beside the hedge.
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In your patience ye are strong.
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Children use the fist until they are of age to use the brain.
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Thou large-brain'd woman and large-hearted man.
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He lives most life whoever breathes most air.
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Nosegays! leave them for the waking, Throw them earthward where they grew Dim are such, beside the breaking Amaranths he looks unto. Folded eyes see brighter colors than the open ever do.
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Eyes of gentianellas azure, Staring, winking at the skies.
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Who so loves believes the impossible.
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We can't separate our humanity from our poetry.
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A woman's always younger than a man at equal years.
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I tell you, hopeless grief is passionless That only men incredulous of despair, half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air beat upward to god's throne in loud access of shrieking and reproach
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
