If I lay here dead
XXIV Let the world's sharpness like a clasping knife
XXV A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne
XXVI I lived with visions for my company
XXVII My own Beloved, who hast lifted me
XXVIII My letters!
XXIV Let the world's sharpness like a clasping knife
XXV A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne
XXVI I lived with visions for my company
XXVII My own Beloved, who hast lifted me
XXVIII My letters!
Sonnets from the Portugese
?
The Project Gutenberg eBook, Sonnets from the Portuguese, by Elizabeth
Barrett Browning
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
www. gutenberg. org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
Title: Sonnets from the Portuguese
Author: Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Release Date: January 13, 2015 [eBook #2002]
[This file was first posted on April 20, 1999]
Language: English
Character set encoding: UTF-8
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE***
Transcribed from the 1906 Caradoc Press edition by David Price, email
ccx074@pglaf. org
[Picture: Book cover]
SONNETS FROM THE
PORTUGUESE
* * * * *
BY
ELIZABETH
BARRETT BROWNING
* * * * *
[Picture: Decorative graphic]
THE CARADOC PRESS BEDFORD PARK
CHISWICK LONDON MDCCCCVI
INDEX OF FIRST LINES
I I thought once how Theocritus had sung
II But only three in all God's universe
III Unlike are we, unlike, O princely Heart!
IV Thou hast thy calling to some palace-floor
V I lift my heavy heart up solemnly
VI Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand
VII The face of all the world is changed, I think
VIII What can I give thee back, O liberal
IX Can it be right to give what I can give?
X Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed
XI And therefore if to love can be desert
XII Indeed this very love which is my boast
XIII And wilt thou have me fashion into speech
XIV If thou must love me, let it be for nought
XV Accuse me not, beseech thee, that I wear
XVI And yet, because thou overcomest so
XVII My poet thou canst touch on all the notes
XVIII I never gave a lock of hair away
XIX The soul's Rialto hath its merchandize
XX Beloved, my beloved, when I think
XXI Say over again, and yet once over again
XXII When our two souls stand up erect and strong
XXIII Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead
XXIV Let the world's sharpness like a clasping knife
XXV A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne
XXVI I lived with visions for my company
XXVII My own Beloved, who hast lifted me
XXVIII My letters! all dead paper, mute and white!
XXIX I think of thee! --my thoughts do twine and bud
XXX I see thine image through my tears to-night
XXXI Thou comest!
If I lay here dead
XXIV Let the world's sharpness like a clasping knife
XXV A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne
XXVI I lived with visions for my company
XXVII My own Beloved, who hast lifted me
XXVIII My letters! all dead paper, mute and white!
XXIX I think of thee! --my thoughts do twine and bud
XXX I see thine image through my tears to-night
XXXI Thou comest! all is said without a word
XXXII The first time that the sun rose on thine oath
XXXIII Yes, call me by my pet-name! let me hear
XXXIV With the same heart, I said, I'll answer thee
XXXV If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange
XXXVI When we met first and loved, I did not build
XXXVII Pardon, oh, pardon, that my soul should make
XXXVIII First time he kissed me, he but only kissed
XXXIX Because thou hast the power and own'st the grace
XL Oh, yes! they love through all this world of ours!
XLI I thank all who have loved me in their hearts
XLII My future will not copy fair my past
XLIII How do I love thee? Let me count the ways
XLIV Beloved, thou hast brought me many flowers
I
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
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, .
Barrett Browning
This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of
the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
www. gutenberg. org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
Title: Sonnets from the Portuguese
Author: Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Release Date: January 13, 2015 [eBook #2002]
[This file was first posted on April 20, 1999]
Language: English
Character set encoding: UTF-8
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE***
Transcribed from the 1906 Caradoc Press edition by David Price, email
ccx074@pglaf. org
[Picture: Book cover]
SONNETS FROM THE
PORTUGUESE
* * * * *
BY
ELIZABETH
BARRETT BROWNING
* * * * *
[Picture: Decorative graphic]
THE CARADOC PRESS BEDFORD PARK
CHISWICK LONDON MDCCCCVI
INDEX OF FIRST LINES
I I thought once how Theocritus had sung
II But only three in all God's universe
III Unlike are we, unlike, O princely Heart!
IV Thou hast thy calling to some palace-floor
V I lift my heavy heart up solemnly
VI Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand
VII The face of all the world is changed, I think
VIII What can I give thee back, O liberal
IX Can it be right to give what I can give?
X Yet, love, mere love, is beautiful indeed
XI And therefore if to love can be desert
XII Indeed this very love which is my boast
XIII And wilt thou have me fashion into speech
XIV If thou must love me, let it be for nought
XV Accuse me not, beseech thee, that I wear
XVI And yet, because thou overcomest so
XVII My poet thou canst touch on all the notes
XVIII I never gave a lock of hair away
XIX The soul's Rialto hath its merchandize
XX Beloved, my beloved, when I think
XXI Say over again, and yet once over again
XXII When our two souls stand up erect and strong
XXIII Is it indeed so? If I lay here dead
XXIV Let the world's sharpness like a clasping knife
XXV A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne
XXVI I lived with visions for my company
XXVII My own Beloved, who hast lifted me
XXVIII My letters! all dead paper, mute and white!
XXIX I think of thee! --my thoughts do twine and bud
XXX I see thine image through my tears to-night
XXXI Thou comest!
If I lay here dead
XXIV Let the world's sharpness like a clasping knife
XXV A heavy heart, Beloved, have I borne
XXVI I lived with visions for my company
XXVII My own Beloved, who hast lifted me
XXVIII My letters! all dead paper, mute and white!
XXIX I think of thee! --my thoughts do twine and bud
XXX I see thine image through my tears to-night
XXXI Thou comest! all is said without a word
XXXII The first time that the sun rose on thine oath
XXXIII Yes, call me by my pet-name! let me hear
XXXIV With the same heart, I said, I'll answer thee
XXXV If I leave all for thee, wilt thou exchange
XXXVI When we met first and loved, I did not build
XXXVII Pardon, oh, pardon, that my soul should make
XXXVIII First time he kissed me, he but only kissed
XXXIX Because thou hast the power and own'st the grace
XL Oh, yes! they love through all this world of ours!
XLI I thank all who have loved me in their hearts
XLII My future will not copy fair my past
XLIII How do I love thee? Let me count the ways
XLIV Beloved, thou hast brought me many flowers
I
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
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, .
