Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Get leave to work
In this world,--'tis the best you get at all.

Get leave to work
In this world,--'tis the best you get at all.

And a breastplate made of daisies,
Closely fitting, leaf on leaf,
Periwinkles interlaced
Drawn read more

And a breastplate made of daisies,
Closely fitting, leaf on leaf,
Periwinkles interlaced
Drawn for belt about the waist;
While the brown bees, humming praises,
Shot their arrows round the chief.

Beautiful.
(in reply to her husband who had asked how she felt moments before her death.).

Beautiful.
(in reply to her husband who had asked how she felt moments before her death.).

God's prophets of the Beautiful,
These Poets were.

God's prophets of the Beautiful,
These Poets were.

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.