Elizabeth Barrett Browning

(6 March 1806 – 29 June 1861 / Durham / England)

Elizabeth Barrett Browning Poems

1. Paraphrase on Anacreon: Ode to the Swallow 5/20/2015
2. Love 4/21/2015
3. Flush Or Faunus 1/5/2015
4. Xii 5/13/2001
5. Stanzas On The Death Of Lord Byron 3/24/2012
6. Sonnet Xxviii 12/31/2002
7. Xxxiv 5/13/2001
8. Xxx 5/13/2001
9. Sonnet Xvi 12/31/2002
10. Viii 5/13/2001
11. Sonnet Xxvi: I Lived With Visions 1/3/2003
12. Xxxiii 5/13/2001
13. Xxxvi 5/13/2001
14. Xxxi 5/13/2001
15. Sonnet Xxiii 12/31/2002
16. Xxxvii 5/13/2001
17. Sonnet Xliv 12/31/2002
18. Sonnet Xxxiv 12/31/2002
19. Xxvi 5/13/2001
20. Sonnet Xxxix 12/31/2002
21. Xv 5/13/2001
22. Xxviii 5/13/2001
23. Xxii 5/13/2001
24. Sonnet Xvii: My Poet, Thou Canst Touch 1/3/2003
25. Sonnet Xxx 12/31/2002
26. Xxix 5/13/2001
27. V 5/13/2001
28. Sonnet Xxxi: Thou Comest! 1/3/2003
29. Xxxii 5/13/2001
30. Sonnet Xx 12/31/2002
31. Xxxix 5/13/2001
32. Sonnet Xxvii 12/31/2002
33. Sonnet Xxxi 12/31/2002
34. Xxiii 5/13/2001
35. Xx 5/13/2001
36. Xix 5/13/2001
37. Sonnet Xxvi 12/31/2002
38. Sonnet Xvii 12/31/2002
39. Xxiv 5/13/2001
40. Xli 5/13/2001
Best Poem of Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How Do I Love Thee?

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.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, -- I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my ...

Read the full of How Do I Love Thee?

Sonnet Xxi

Say over again, and yet once over again,
That thou dost love me. Though the word repeated
Should seem ' a cuckoo-song,' as thou dost treat it,
Remember, never to the hill or plain,
Valley and wood, without her cuckoo-strain
Comes the fresh Spring in all her green completed.
Beloved, I, amid the darkness greeted
By a doubtful spirit-voice, in that doubt's pain
Cry, ' Speak once more--thou lovest ! ' Who can fear

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