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Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers?
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
Hear
Children
Weeping
Brothers
Childhood
Brother
More quotes by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
You smell a rose through a fence: If two should smell it, what matter?
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
Where Christ brings His cross He brings His presence and where He is none are desolate, and there is no room for despair.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
O pusillanimous Heart, be comforted And, like a cheerful traveller, take the road Singing beside the hedge.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The Greeks said grandly in their tragic phrase, 'Let no one be called happy till his death' to which I would add, 'Let no one, till his death, be called unhappy.'
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Folded eyes see brighter colors than the open ever do.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Suddenly, as rare things will, it vanished.
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
Never say No when the world says Aye.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
When we first met and loved, I did not build Upon the event with marble. . . .
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
truth outlives pain, as the soul does life.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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
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
A woman's pity sometimes makes her mad.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Since when was genius found respectable?
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Of writing many books there is no end.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Every age, Through being beheld too close, is ill-discerned By those who have not lived past it.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Whatever's lost, it first was won.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I love you for the part of me that you bring out.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
