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. Xli 5/13/2001
6. Sonnet Xxviii 12/31/2002
7. Sonnet Xxxvii 12/31/2002
8. Sonnet Xxxviii 12/31/2002
9. Sonnet Xxvi 12/31/2002
10. Sonnet Xxv 12/31/2002
11. Xxx 5/13/2001
12. Viii 5/13/2001
13. Vii 5/13/2001
14. Xxxix 5/13/2001
15. Xxxiii 5/13/2001
16. Xxxvi 5/13/2001
17. Xxxi 5/13/2001
18. Sonnet Xxiii 12/31/2002
19. Sonnet Xxvii 12/31/2002
20. Xxxvii 5/13/2001
21. Sonnet Xliv 12/31/2002
22. Stanzas On The Death Of Lord Byron 3/24/2012
23. Xxvi 5/13/2001
24. Sonnet Xxxix 12/31/2002
25. Xv 5/13/2001
26. Xxviii 5/13/2001
27. Sonnet Xvii: My Poet, Thou Canst Touch 1/3/2003
28. Sonnet Xxx 12/31/2002
29. Xxxiv 5/13/2001
30. Xxvii 5/13/2001
31. V 5/13/2001
32. Sonnet Xvi 12/31/2002
33. Sonnet Xxvi: I Lived With Visions 1/3/2003
34. Xxxii 5/13/2001
35. Sonnet Xx 12/31/2002
36. Sonnet Xxxi 12/31/2002
37. Xxiii 5/13/2001
38. Sonnet Xxxiv 12/31/2002
39. Xix 5/13/2001
40. Sonnet Xvii 12/31/2002
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?

Pain In Pleasure

A THOUGHT ay like a flower upon mine heart,
And drew around it other thoughts like bees
For multitude and thirst of sweetnesses;
Whereat rejoicing, I desired the art
Of the Greek whistler, who to wharf and mart
Could lure those insect swarms from orange-trees
That I might hive with me such thoughts and please
My soul so, always. foolish counterpart
Of a weak man's vain wishes ! While I spoke,

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