Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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

Elizabeth Barrett Browning Poems

1. A Child Asleep 5/12/2001
2. A Curse For A Nation 5/12/2001
3. A Dead Rose 5/12/2001
4. A Man's Requirements 12/31/2002
5. A Musical Instrument 5/12/2001
6. A Sea-Side Walk 5/12/2001
7. A Thought For A Lonely Death-Bed 5/12/2001
8. A Woman's Shortcomings 1/3/2003
9. A Year's Spinning 1/13/2003
10. Adequacy 5/12/2001
11. An Apprehension 5/12/2001
12. Aurora Leigh (Excerpts) 1/1/2004
13. Change Upon Change 5/12/2001
14. Cheerfulness Taught By Reason 5/12/2001
15. Chorus Of Eden Spirits 1/1/2004
16. Comfort 5/12/2001
17. Consolation 12/31/2002
18. De Profundis 12/31/2002
19. Discontent 5/12/2001
20. Exaggeration 5/12/2001
21. Flush Or Faunus 1/5/2015
22. From ‘the Soul’s Travelling’ 1/1/2004
23. Futurity 5/12/2001
24. Grief 5/12/2001
25. How Do I Love Thee? 5/12/2001
26. Human Life’s Mystery 1/1/2004
27. I 5/12/2001
28. Ii 5/12/2001
29. Iii 5/12/2001
30. Insufficiency 5/12/2001
31. Irreparableness 5/12/2001
32. Iv 5/12/2001
33. Ix 5/12/2001
34. Lord Walter's Wife 12/31/2002
35. Love 4/21/2015
36. Minstrelsy 5/12/2001
37. Mother And Poet 1/1/2004
38. My Heart And I 1/1/2004
39. On A Portrait Of Wordsworth 5/12/2001
40. Only A Curl. 1/1/2004
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 Xvii

My poet, thou canst touch on all the notes
God set between his After and Before,
And strike up and strike off the general roar
Of the rushing worlds a melody that floats
In a serene air purely. Antidotes
Of medicated music, answering for
Mankind's forlornest uses, thou canst pour
From thence into their ears. God's will devotes
Thine to such ends, and mine to wait on thine.

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