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When we first met and loved, I did not build Upon the event with marble. . . .
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
Love
Event
Mets
Build
Events
Loved
Upon
Firsts
First
Marble
More quotes by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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
Who can fear Too many stars, though each in heaven shall roll- Too many flowers, though each shall crown the year? Say thou dost love me, love me, love me-toll The silver iterance!-only minding, Dear, To love me also in silence, with thy soul.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
For 'Tis not in mere death that men die most.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Eyes of gentianellas azure, Staring, winking at the skies.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
In your patience ye are strong.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I would confide to you perhaps my secret profession of faith - which is ... which is ... that let us say and do what we please and can ... there is a natural inferiority of mind in women - of the intellect ... not by any means, of the moral nature - and that the history of Art and of genius testifies to this fact openly.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Anybody is qualified, according to everybody, for giving opinions upon poetry. It is not so in chemistry and mathematics. Nor is it so, I believe, in whist and the polka. But then these are more serious things.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
O, brothers! let us leave the shame and sin Of taking vainly in a plaintive mood, The holy name of Grief--holy herein, That, by the grief of One, came all our good.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Love me sweet With all thou art Feeling, thinking, seeing Love me in the Lightest part, Love me in full Being.
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
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
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
A man may love a woman perfectly, and yet by no means ignorantly maintain a thousand women have not larger eyes. Enough that she alone has looked at him with eyes that, large or small, have won his soul.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Measure not the work until the day's out and the labor done.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints,-I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears, of all my life!-and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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
But since he had The genius to be loved, why let him have The justice to be honoured in his grave.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The man, most man, Works best for men, and, if most men indeed, He gets his manhood plainest from his soul: While, obviously, this stringent soul itself Obeys our old rules of development The Spirit ever witnessing in ours, And Love, the soul of soul, within the soul, Evolving it sublimely.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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
