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    Sonnets from the Portuguese
    Sonnets from the Portuguese
    Sonnets from the Portuguese
    Ebook49 pages19 minutes

    Sonnets from the Portuguese

    By Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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    About this ebook

    Sonnets from the Portuguese is a is a collection of 44 love sonnets composed by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Browning was an English poet of the Victorian era. Excerpt:
    "I lift my heavy heart up solemnly,
    As once Electra her sepulchral urn,
    And, looking in thine eyes, I over-turn
    The ashes at thy feet. Behold and see
    What a great heap of grief lay hid in me,
    And how the red wild sparkles dimly burn
    Through the ashen greyness. If thy foot in scorn
    Could tread them out to darkness utterly,
    It might be well perhaps. But if instead
    Thou wait beside me for the wind to blow
    The grey dust up, . . . those laurels on thine head,
    O my Beloved, will not shield thee so,
    That none of all the fires shall scorch and shred
    The hair beneath. Stand further off then! go!"
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherGood Press
    Release dateNov 19, 2019
    ISBN4057664145970
    Author

    Elizabeth Barrett Browning

    Elizabeth Barrett Browning was one of the foremost poets of the nineteenth century, perhaps best known for her verse epic Aurora Leigh.

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      Book preview

      Sonnets from the Portuguese - Elizabeth Barrett Browning

      Elizabeth Barrett Browning

      Sonnets from the Portuguese

      Published by Good Press, 2019

      goodpress@okpublishing.info

      EAN 4057664145970

      Table of Contents

      I

      II

      III

      IV

      V

      VI

      VII

      VIII

      IX

      X

      XI

      XII

      XIII

      XIV

      XV

      XVI

      XVII

      XVIII

      XIX

      XX

      XXI

      XXII

      XXIII

      XXIV

      XXV

      XXVI

      XXVII

      XXVIII

      XXIX

      XXX

      XXXI

      XXXII

      XXXIII

      XXXIV

      XXXV

      XXXVI

      XXXVII

      XXXVIII

      XXXIX

      XL

      XLI

      XLII

      XLIII

      XLIV

      I

      Table of Contents

      I thought once how Theocritus had sung

      Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years,

      Who each one in a gracious hand appears

      To bear a gift for mortals, old or young:

      And, as I mused it in his antique tongue,

      I saw, in gradual vision through my tears,

      The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,

      Those of my own life, who by turns had flung

      A shadow across me. Straightway I was ’ware,

      So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move

      Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair;

      And a voice said in mastery, while I strove—

      Guess now who holds thee!—Death, I said, But, there,

      The silver answer rang, Not Death, but Love.

      II

      Table of Contents

      But only three in all God’s universe

      Have heard this word thou hast said—Himself, beside

      Thee speaking, and me listening! and replied

      One of us … that was God, … and laid the curse

      So darkly on my eyelids, as to amerce

      My sight from seeing

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