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The music soars within the little lark, And the lark soars.
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
Soar
Within
Littles
Music
Little
Soars
Lark
Larks
More quotes by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
We can't separate our humanity from our poetry.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
When we first met and loved, I did not build Upon the event with marble. . . .
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Life, struck sharp on death, Makes awful lightning.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Of writing many books there is no end.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
You believe In God, for your part?--that He who makes Can make good things from ill things, best from worst, As men plant tulips upon dunghills when They wish them finest.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Measure not the work until the day's out and the labor done.
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
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
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
O rose, who dares to name thee? No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet, But pale, and hard, and dry, as stubblewheat, Kept seven years in a drawer, thy titles shame thee.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Gaze up at the stars knowing that I see the same sky and wish the same sweet dreams.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
And lilies are still lilies, pulled By smutty hands, though spotted from their white.
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
A good neighbor sometimes cuts your morning up to mince-meat of the very smallest talk, then helps to sugar her bohea at night with your reputation.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The charm, one might say the genius, of memory is that it is choosy, chancy and temperamental.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
A grave, on which to rest from singing?
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Behold me! I am worthy Of thy loving, for I love thee!
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
And yet, because I love thee, I obtain From that same love this vindicating grace, To live on still in love, and yet in vain
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
But I love you, sir: And when a woman says she loves a man, The man must hear her, though he love her not.
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
