Elizabeth Barrett Browning

The man, most man, works best for men: and, if most man indeed, he gets his manhood plainest from his read more

The man, most man, works best for men: and, if most man indeed, he gets his manhood plainest from his soul.

I wish I were the lily's leaf
To fade upon that bosom warm,
Content to wither, pale read more

I wish I were the lily's leaf
To fade upon that bosom warm,
Content to wither, pale and brief,
The trophy of thy paler form.

Many a crown
Covers bald foreheads.

Many a crown
Covers bald foreheads.

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.

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

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