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I cannot speak In happy tones the tear drops on my cheek Show I am sad But I can speak Of grace to suffer with submission meek, Until made glad.
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
Happy
Drops
Show
Cheek
Speak
Submission
Cannot
Tear
Made
Tone
Suffer
Glad
Tones
Grace
Meek
More quotes by 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
Books succeed and lives fail.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Souls are gregarious in a sense, but no soul touches another, as a general rule.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange And be all to me?
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
O brave poets, keep back nothing Nor mix falsehood with the whole! Look up Godward! speak the truth in Worthy song from earnest soul! Hold, in high poetic duty, Truest Truth the fairest Beauty.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
I wish I were the lily's leaf To fade upon that bosom warm, Content to wither, pale and brief, The trophy of thy paler form.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Suddenly, as rare things will, it vanished.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Gaze up at the stars knowing that I see the same sky and wish the same sweet dreams.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
In your patience ye are strong.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
It was not the apple on the tree but the pair on the ground that caused the trouble in the garden of Eden.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Men get opinions as boys learn to spell by reiteration chiefly.
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
My future will not copy my fair past, I wrote that once. And, thinking at my side my ministering life-angel justified the word by his appealing look upcast to the white throne of God.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
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
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
Sleep on, Baby, on the floor, Tired of all the playing, Sleep with smile the sweeter for That you dropped away in! On your curls' full roundness stand Golden lights serenely-- One cheek, pushed out by the hand, Folds the dimple inly.
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
Folded eyes see brighter colors than the open ever do.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The critics could never mortify me out of heart - because I love poetry for its own sake, - and, tho' with no stoicism and some ambition, care more for my poems than for my poetic reputation.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
