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Sing, seraph with the glory! heaven is high. Sing, poet with the sorrow! earth is low. The universe's inward voices cry Amen to either song of joy and woe. Sing, seraph, poet! sing on equally!
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
High
Lows
Heaven
Sing
Seraph
Universe
Cry
Amen
Voice
Sorrow
Woe
Song
Glory
Inward
Earth
Poet
Voices
Joy
Equally
Either
Singers
More quotes by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The large white owl that with eye is blind, That hath sate for years in the old tree hollow, Is carried away in a gust of wind.
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
Light tomorrow with today!
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
And lilies are still lilies, pulled By smutty hands, though spotted from their white.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Books succeed and lives fail.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The charm, one might say the genius, of memory is that it is choosy, chancy and temperamental.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Eyes of gentianellas azure, Staring, winking at the skies.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Measure not the work until the day's out and the labor done.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
No man can be called friendless who has God and the companionship of good books.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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!
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The man, most man, Works best for men, and, if most men indeed, He gets his manhood plainest from his soul: While, obviously, this stringent soul itself Obeys our old rules of development The Spirit ever witnessing in ours, And Love, the soul of soul, within the soul, Evolving it sublimely.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The beautiful seems right by force of beauty and the feeble wrong because of weakness.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
There Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb The crowns o' the world oh, eyes sublime With tears and laughter for all time!
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Death forerunneth Love to win Sweetest eyes were ever seen.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The music soars within the little lark, And the lark soars.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
We can't separate our humanity from our poetry.
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
Nor myrtle--which means chiefly love: and love Is something awful which one dare not touch So early o' mornings.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
O pusillanimous Heart, be comforted And, like a cheerful traveller, take the road Singing beside the hedge.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
There's nothing great Nor small, has said a poet of our day, Whose voice will ring beyond the curfew of eve And not be thrown out by the matin's bell.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
