Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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

Elizabeth Barrett Browning Poems

201. The Runaway Slave At Pilgrim's Point 12/31/2002
202. I 5/12/2001
203. Sonnet 29 - I Think Of Thee!&Mdash;My Thoughts Do Twine And Bud 1/13/2003
204. Sonnet X: Yet Love, Mere Love 1/3/2003
205. De Profundis 12/31/2002
206. From ‘the Soul’s Travelling’ 1/1/2004
207. Mother And Poet 1/1/2004
208. Patience Taught By Nature 5/12/2001
209. Sonnet 10 - Yet, Love, Mere Love, Is Beautiful Indeed 1/13/2003
210. Pain In Pleasure 5/12/2001
211. Chorus Of Eden Spirits 1/1/2004
212. Grief 5/12/2001
213. Consolation 12/31/2002
214. Discontent 5/12/2001
215. Aurora Leigh (Excerpts) 1/1/2004
216. My Heart And I 1/1/2004
217. An Apprehension 5/12/2001
218. A Musical Instrument 5/12/2001
219. Adequacy 5/12/2001
220. A Sea-Side Walk 5/12/2001
221. Human Life’s Mystery 1/1/2004
222. A Year's Spinning 1/13/2003
223. The Best Thing In The World 12/31/2002
224. Cheerfulness Taught By Reason 5/12/2001
225. A Thought For A Lonely Death-Bed 5/12/2001
226. A Child Asleep 5/12/2001
227. Change Upon Change 5/12/2001
228. A Man's Requirements 12/31/2002
229. A Curse For A Nation 5/12/2001
230. A Woman's Shortcomings 1/3/2003
231. A Dead Rose 5/12/2001
232. The Cry Of The Children 12/31/2002
233. Comfort 5/12/2001
234. Sonnet 43 - How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count The Ways 1/13/2003
235. Sonnet 14 - If Thou Must Love Me, Let It Be For Nought 1/13/2003
236. How Do I Love Thee? 5/12/2001

Comments about Elizabeth Barrett Browning

  • Christina Murphy (5/6/2003 3:08:00 AM)

    I love poems! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

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Best Poem of Elizabeth Barrett Browning

The Cry Of The Children

Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers,
Ere the sorrow comes with years?
They are leaning their young heads against their mothers---
And that cannot stop their tears.
The young lambs are bleating in the meadows;
The young birds are chirping in the nest;
The young fawns are playing with the shadows;
The young flowers are blowing toward the west---
But the young, young children, O my brothers,
They are weeping bitterly!---
They are weeping in the playtime of the others
In the country of the ...

Read the full of The Cry Of The Children

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

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