Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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

Elizabeth Barrett Browning Poems

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