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. 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. Sonnet Xxxviii 12/31/2002
9. Xxxiv 5/13/2001
10. Xxx 5/13/2001
11. Sonnet Xvi 12/31/2002
12. Viii 5/13/2001
13. Sonnet Xxvi 12/31/2002
14. Sonnet Xxv 12/31/2002
15. Vii 5/13/2001
16. Xxxix 5/13/2001
17. Xxxiii 5/13/2001
18. Xxxvi 5/13/2001
19. Xxxi 5/13/2001
20. Sonnet Xxiii 12/31/2002
21. Xxxvii 5/13/2001
22. Sonnet Xxvii 12/31/2002
23. Sonnet Xxxiv 12/31/2002
24. Sonnet Xliv 12/31/2002
25. Xxvi 5/13/2001
26. Sonnet Xxxix 12/31/2002
27. Xv 5/13/2001
28. Xxii 5/13/2001
29. Sonnet Xxx 12/31/2002
30. Xxix 5/13/2001
31. Xxvii 5/13/2001
32. Sonnet Xxxi: Thou Comest! 1/3/2003
33. V 5/13/2001
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. Xxxv 5/13/2001
40. Sonnet Xxxiii 12/31/2002

Comments about Elizabeth Barrett Browning

  • prefer not to be identified (5/25/2018 4:14:00 AM)

    Can someone tell me how to use this site. It says she hasn't posted any poems in the last 14 days! Of course she hasn't, she has been dead since 1861! ! ! ! !

    2 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Aswin (2/25/2018 8:19:00 AM)

    Out in the fieldes with god

  • Sdhj''fv (2/20/2018 7:46:00 PM)

    Emily Browning was a poet you and i arent here for facts we are here for a research paper and this is boring

  • Ed Baidya Baidya (12/18/2015 3:40:00 AM)

    she is my mother. she is my brother. she is my father. yeh that's right Michael wallace

  • Agatha Eliza Agatha Eliza (10/16/2015 3:36:00 PM)

    I have discovered some of her poetry in an anthology book collection when I was still in highschool, and I was absolutely impressed. Elizabeth Barrett Browning had a unique way of putting her feelings into poetry..However, the long epic poem Aurora Leigh remains my all time favourite. It's a masterpiece.

  • Michael Wallace (8/22/2015 7:42:00 PM)

    She is my ancestor

  • S B (5/5/2014 5:51:00 PM)

    A Child Asleep is a very nice poem

  • Valentin Savin Valentin Savin (12/10/2013 8:31:00 AM)

    A very nice poem. I agree with what follows: If thou must love me, let it be for nought...

  • Joybaby John (11/1/2012 6:56:00 AM)

    I am miss joy by name, Is my pleasure to contact you after going through your profile at /www.poemhunter.com which really interest me in having communication with you. I will appreciate if you can write me back (joybabyjohn25@yahoo.co.uk) for easiest communication and to know more about each other so that i will explain myself to you and also send my picture to you.
    Take care and have a nice day.
    I await hearing from you soonest.
    Yours truly


  • Koena Mokoena Koena Mokoena (4/13/2012 2:38:00 AM)

    What creates A Dead Rose ? Your correspondence will be highly appreciated.
    Have a nice day!

    Yours sincerely.
    Mr. Koena France Mokoena
    Country: South Africa
    Website: www.poemhunter.com/kfmproductions

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 Xli: I Thank All

I thank all who have loved me in their hearts,
With thanks and love from mine. Deep thanks to all
Who paused a little near the prison-wall
To hear my music in its louder parts
Ere they went onward, each one to the mart's
Or temple's occupation, beyond call.
But thou, who, in my voice's sink and fall
When the sob took it, thy divinest Art's
Own instrument didst drop down at thy foot

[Report Error]