Quote

A child's kiss Set on thy sighing lips shall make thee glad A poor man served by thee shall make thee rich A sick man helped by thee shall make thee strong Thou shalt be served thyself by every sense Of service which thou renderest.

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
Men
Child
Thou
Community
Glad
Sighing
Poor
Thee
Shalt
Strong
Lips
Thyself
Sense
Service
Served
Children
Sick
Helped
Every
Shall
Kiss
Make
Rich
Kissing

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She has seen the mystery hid Under Egypt's pyramid: By those eyelids pale and close Now she knows what Rhamses knows.
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And Chaucer, with his infantine Familiar clasp of things divine.
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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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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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Sleep on, Baby, on the floor, Tired of all the playing, Sleep with smile the sweeter for That you dropped away in! On your curls' full roundness stand Golden lights serenely-- One cheek, pushed out by the hand, Folds the dimple inly.
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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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The man, most man, works best for men: and, if most man indeed, he gets his manhood plainest from his soul.
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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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The music soars within the little lark, And the lark soars.
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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.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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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.
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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.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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But since he had The genius to be loved, why let him have The justice to be honoured in his grave.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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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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Unless you can muse in a crowd all day On the absent face that fixed you Unless you can love, as the angels may, With the breadth of heaven betwixt you Unless you can dream that his faith is fast, Through behoving and unbehoving Unless you can die when the dream is past — Oh, never call it loving!
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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
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There are nettles everywhere, but smooth, green grasses are more common still the blue of heaven is larger than the cloud.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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No man can be called friendless who has God and the companionship of good books.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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If thou must love me, let it be for naught except for love's sake only.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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A grave, on which to rest from singing?
Elizabeth Barrett Browning