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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
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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
Deep
Afar
Grace
Unto
Sleep
Inward
Tell
Beloved
Psalmist
Soul
Souls
Giveth
Music
Gift
Surpassing
Along
Thoughts
Borne
More quotes by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Never say No when the world says Aye.
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The denial of contemporary genius is the rule rather than the exception. No one counts the eagles in the nest, till there is a rush of wings and lo! they are flown.
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The least flower, with brimming cup, may stand and share its dew drop with another near.
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The music soars within the little lark, And the lark soars.
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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
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 there my little doves did sit With feathers softly brown And glittering eyes that showed their right To general Nature's deep delight.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Of writing many books there is no end.
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Suddenly, as rare things will, it vanished.
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If we tried To sink the past beneath our feet, be sure The future would not stand.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange And be all to me?
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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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When God helps all the workers for His world, The singers shall have help of Him, not last.
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You smell a rose through a fence: If two should smell it, what matter?
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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.
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And lilies are still lilies, pulled By smutty hands, though spotted from their white.
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Women know the way to rear up children (to be just). They know a simple, merry, tender knack of tying sashes, fitting baby-shoes, and stringing pretty words that make no sense. And kissing full sense into empty words.
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No man can be called friendless who has God and the companionship of good books.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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.
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