Elizabeth Barrett Browning

He likes the poor things of the world the best,
I would not, therefore, if I could be rich.
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He likes the poor things of the world the best,
I would not, therefore, if I could be rich.
It pleases him t stoop for buttercups.

The world goes whispering to its own,
"This anguish pierces to the bone;"
And tender friends go read more

The world goes whispering to its own,
"This anguish pierces to the bone;"
And tender friends go sighing round,
"What love can ever cure this wound?"
My days go on, my days go on.

Red as a rose of Harpocrate.

Red as a rose of Harpocrate.

The music soars within the little lark,
And the lark soars.

The music soars within the little lark,
And the lark soars.

Let no one till his death be called unhappy. Measure not the work until the day's out and the labor read more

Let no one till his death be called unhappy. Measure not the work until the day's out and the labor done.