poet Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Elizabeth Barrett Browning

#72 on top 500 poets

Sonnet 31 - Thou Comest! All Is Said Without A Word

XXXI

Thou comest! all is said without a word.
I sit beneath thy looks, as children do
In the noon-sun, with souls that tremble through
Their happy eyelids from an unaverred
Yet prodigal inward joy. Behold, I erred
In that last doubt! and yet I cannot rue
The sin most, but the occasion—that we two
Should for a moment stand unministered
By a mutual presence. Ah, keep near and close,
Thou dovelike help! and, when my fears would rise,
With thy broad heart serenely interpose:
Brood down with thy divine sufficiencies
These thoughts which tremble when bereft of those,
Like callow birds left desert to the skies.

Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

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Read poems about / on: children, happy, joy, sun, heart, fear, child, rose, sky