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A grave, on which to rest from singing?
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
Rest
Grave
Graves
Singing
More quotes by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Oh, a day in the city-square, there is no such pleasure in life!
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Very whitely still The lilies of our lives may reassure Their blossoms from their roots, accessible Alone to heavenly dews that drop not fewer Growing straight out of man's reach, on the hill. God only, who made us rich, can make us poor.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The soul's Rialto hath its merchandise, I barter for curl upon that mart.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
We overstate the ills of life, and take Imagination... down our earth to rake.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
My patience has dreadful chilblains from standing so long on a monument.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How many desolate creatures on the earth have learnt the simple dues of fellowship and social comfort, in a hospital.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Light tomorrow with today!
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Suddenly, as rare things will, it vanished.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Men get opinions as boys learn to spell by reiteration chiefly.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I would not be a rose upon the wall A queen might stop at, near the palace-door, To say to a courtier, Pluck that rose for me, It's prettier than the rest. O Romney Leigh! I'd rather far be trodden by his foot, Than lie in a great queen's bosom.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
He lives most life whoever breathes most air.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I heard an angel speak last night/And he said, Write!
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Men of science, osteologists And surgeons, beat some poets, in respect For nature,-count nought common or unclean, Spend raptures upon perfect specimens Of indurated veins, distorted joints, Or beautiful new cases of curved spine While we, we are shocked at nature's falling off, We dare to shrink back from her warts and blains.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
God answers sharp and sudden on some prayers, And thrusts the thing we have prayed for in our face, A gauntlet with a gift in it.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
In this abundant earth no doubt Is little room for things worn out: Disdain them, break them, throw them by! And if before the days grew rough We once were lov'd, us'd -- well enough, I think, we've far'd, my heart and I.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Souls are gregarious in a sense, but no soul touches another, as a general rule.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
For me, my heart, that erst did go Most like a tired child at a show, That sees through tears the mummers leap, Would now its wearied vision close, Would childlike on His love repose, Who giveth His Beloved, sleep.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
And lilies are still lilies, pulled By smutty hands, though spotted from their white.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Behold me! I am worthy Of thy loving, for I love thee!
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
