Elizabeth Barrett Browning

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.

Wall must get the weather stain
Before they grow the ivy.

Wall must get the weather stain
Before they grow the ivy.

O rose, who dares to name thee?
No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet,
But pale, read more

O rose, who dares to name thee?
No longer roseate now, nor soft, nor sweet,
But pale, and hard, and dry, as stubblewheat,--
Kept seven years in a drawer, thy titles shame thee.

How joyously the young sea-mew
Lay dreaming on the waters blue,
Whereon our little bark had thrown
read more

How joyously the young sea-mew
Lay dreaming on the waters blue,
Whereon our little bark had thrown
A little shade, the only one;
But shadows ever man pursue.

By the way,
The works of women are symbolical.
We sew, sew, prick our fingers, dull out read more

By the way,
The works of women are symbolical.
We sew, sew, prick our fingers, dull out sight,
Producing what? A pair of slippers, sir,
To put on when you're weary--or a stool
To tumble over and vex you . . . curse that stool!
Or else at best, a cushion where you lean
And sleep, and dream of something we are not,
But would be for your sake. Alas, alas!
This hurts most, this . . . that, after all, we are paid
The worth of our work, perhaps.