Tag: dearest

  • Sonnets from the Portuguese – 16 to 20

    Elizabeth Barrett Browning

    XVI

    And yet, because thou overcomest so,
    Because thou art more noble and like a king,
    Thou canst prevail against my fears and fling
    Thy purple round me, till my heart shall grow
    Too close against thine heart henceforth to know
    How it shook when alone. Why, conquering
    May prove as lordly and complete a thing
    In lifting upward, as in crushing low!
    And as a vanquished soldier yields his sword
    To one who lifts him from the bloody earth,
    Even so, Beloved, I at last record,
    Here ends my strife. If thou invite me forth,
    I rise above abasement at the word.
    Make thy love larger to enlarge my worth.

     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.
    How, Dearest, wilt thou have me for most use?
    A hope, to sing by gladly? or a fine
    Sad memory, with thy songs to interfuse?
    A shade, in which to sing–of palm or pine?
    A grave, on which to rest from singing? Choose.

     XVIII

    I never gave a lock of hair away
    To a man, Dearest, except this to thee,
    Which now upon my fingers thoughtfully,
    I ring out to the full brown length and say
    “Take it.”My day of youth went yesterday;
    My hair no longer bounds to my foot’s glee,
    Nor plant I it from rose or myrtle-tree,
    As girls do, any more: it only may
    Now shade on two pale cheeks the mark of tears,
    Taught drooping from the head that hangs aside
    Through sorrow’s trick. I thought the funeral-shears
    Would take this first, but Love is justified,–
    Take it thou,–finding pure, from all those years,
    The kiss my mother left here when she died.

    XIX

    The soul’s Rialto hath its merchandise;
    I barter curl for curl upon that mart,
    And from my poet’s forehead to my heart
    Receive this lock which outweighs argosies,–
    As purply black, as erst to Pindar’s eyes
    The dim purpureal tresses gloomed athwart
    The nine white Muse-brows. For this counterpart, . . .
    The bay-crown’s shade, Beloved, I surmise,
    Still lingers on thy curl, it is so black!
    Thus, with a fillet of smooth-kissing breath,
    I tie the shadows safe from gliding back,
    And lay the gift where nothing hindereth;
    Here on my heart, as on thy brow, to lack
    No natural heat till mine grows cold in death.

     XX

    Beloved, my Beloved, when I think
    That thou wast in the world a year ago,
    What time I sat alone here in the snow
    And saw no footprint, heard the silence sink
    No moment at thy voice, but, link by link,
    Went counting all my chains as if that so
    They never could fall off at any blow
    Struck by thy possible hand,–why, thus I drink
    Of life’s great cup of wonder! Wonderful,
    Never to feel thee thrill the day or night
    With personal act or speech,–nor ever cull
    Some prescience of thee with the blossoms white
    Thou sawest growing! Atheists are as dull,
    Who cannot guess God’s presence out of sight.