Maxioms by Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Ah, ah, Cytherea! Adonis is dead.
She wept tear after tear, with the blood which was shed,--
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Ah, ah, Cytherea! Adonis is dead.
She wept tear after tear, with the blood which was shed,--
And both turned into flowers for the earth's garden-close;
Her tears, to the wind-flower,--his blood, to the rose.
O, brothers! let us leave the shame and sin
Of taking vainly in a plaintive mood,
The read more
O, brothers! let us leave the shame and sin
Of taking vainly in a plaintive mood,
The holy name of Grief--holy herein,
That, by the grief of One, came all our good.
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height read more
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 everyday's Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the 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 life! - and, if God choose, I shall but love thee better after death.
You were made perfectly to be loved - and surely I have loved you, in the idea of you, my read more
You were made perfectly to be loved - and surely I have loved you, in the idea of you, my whole life long.
The beauty seems right
By force of beauty, and the feeble wrong
Because of weakness.
The beauty seems right
By force of beauty, and the feeble wrong
Because of weakness.
