Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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

I

Poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

I thought once how Theocritus had sung
Of the sweet years, the dear and wished-for years,
Who each one in a gracious hand appears
To bear a gift for mortals, old or young:
And, as I mused it in his antique tongue,
I saw, in gradual vision through my tears,
The sweet, sad years, the melancholy years,
Those of my own life, who by turns had flung
A shadow across me. Straightway I was 'ware,
So weeping, how a mystic Shape did move
Behind me, and drew me backward by the hair:
And a voice said in mastery, while I strove,--
'Guess now who holds thee ? '--' Death,' I said. But, there,
The silver answer rang,--' Not Death, but Love.'


Comments about I by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

  • Geeta Radhakrishna MenonGeeta Radhakrishna Menon (4/27/2020 1:16:00 AM)

    And a voice said in mastery, while I strove, -
    'Guess now who holds thee? '- ' Death, ' I said. But, there,
    The silver answer rang, - ' Not Death, but Love.'.....10(Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
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  • Sylvaonyema UbaSylvaonyema Uba (5/3/2018 10:06:00 AM)

    Good use of the Italian rhyme scheme pattern of abba, abba.
    Good concept.

    SYLVA-ONYEMA(Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Brian JaniBrian Jani (5/2/2014 7:44:00 AM)

    Nice poem I like it very much(Report)Reply

    0 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
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Read poems about / on: silver, sad, death, hair, life



Poem Submitted: Saturday, May 12, 2001

Poem Edited: Saturday, May 12, 2001


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