Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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

Elizabeth Barrett Browning Poems

201. Sonnet 42 - 'My Future Will Not Copy Fair My Past' 1/13/2003
202. De Profundis 12/31/2002
203. Discontent 5/12/2001
204. The Runaway Slave At Pilgrim's Point 12/31/2002
205. Sonnet 38 - First Time He Kissed Me, He But Only Kissed 1/13/2003
206. Sonnet Xiii: And Wilt Thou Have Me 1/3/2003
207. From ‘the Soul’s Travelling’ 1/1/2004
208. Patience Taught By Nature 5/12/2001
209. Mother And Poet 1/1/2004
210. Cheerfulness Taught By Reason 5/12/2001
211. Sonnet 10 - Yet, Love, Mere Love, Is Beautiful Indeed 1/13/2003
212. Chorus Of Eden Spirits 1/1/2004
213. Pain In Pleasure 5/12/2001
214. Grief 5/12/2001
215. Consolation 12/31/2002
216. A Year's Spinning 1/13/2003
217. An Apprehension 5/12/2001
218. A Musical Instrument 5/12/2001
219. My Heart And I 1/1/2004
220. A Sea-Side Walk 5/12/2001
221. The Best Thing In The World 12/31/2002
222. A Thought For A Lonely Death-Bed 5/12/2001
223. Adequacy 5/12/2001
224. Aurora Leigh (Excerpts) 1/1/2004
225. Change Upon Change 5/12/2001
226. A Child Asleep 5/12/2001
227. Human Life’s Mystery 1/1/2004
228. A Woman's Shortcomings 1/3/2003
229. A Man's Requirements 12/31/2002
230. The Cry Of The Children 12/31/2002
231. A Curse For A Nation 5/12/2001
232. A Dead Rose 5/12/2001
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
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 ...

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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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