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 Xxi

Say over again, and yet once over again,
That thou dost love me. Though the word repeated
Should seem ' a cuckoo-song,' as thou dost treat it,
Remember, never to the hill or plain,
Valley and wood, without her cuckoo-strain
Comes the fresh Spring in all her green completed.
Beloved, I, amid the darkness greeted
By a doubtful spirit-voice, in that doubt's pain
Cry, ' Speak once more--thou lovest ! ' Who can fear

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