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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
Of writing many books there is no end.
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Beloved, let us live so well our work shall still be better for our love, and still our love be sweeter for our work.
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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.
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Suddenly, as rare things will, it vanished.
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And lilies are still lilies, pulled By smutty hands, though spotted from their white.
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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.
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The plague of gold strikes far and near.
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
A grave, on which to rest from singing?
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I, who thought to sink, was caught up into love, and taught the whole of life in a new rhythm.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Definition of Love: A score of zero in tennis. I love thee with the breath, Smiles, tears of all my life.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Many a fervid man writes books as cold and flat as graveyard stones.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
And there my little doves did sit With feathers softly brown And glittering eyes that showed their right To general Nature's deep delight.
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You're something between a dream and a miracle.
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The world's male chivalry has perished out, but women are knights-errant to the last and, if Cervantes had been greater still, he had made his Don a Donna.
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Deep violets, you liken to The kindest eyes that look on you, Without a thought disloyal.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Of all the thoughts of God that are Borne inward unto souls afar, Along the Psalmist's music deep, Now tell me if that any is. For gift or grace, surpassing this-- He giveth His beloved sleep.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Death forerunneth Love to win Sweetest eyes were ever seen.
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
Gaze up at the stars knowing that I see the same sky and wish the same sweet dreams.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
