Elizabeth Barrett Browning ( 10 of 96 )
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.
Capacity for joy
Admits temptation.
Capacity for joy
Admits temptation.
Red as a rose of Harpocrate.
Red as a rose of Harpocrate.
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.
And there my little doves did sit
With feathers softly brown
And glittering eyes that showed their read more
And there my little doves did sit
With feathers softly brown
And glittering eyes that showed their right
To general Nature's deep delight.
"For if I wait," said she,
"Till time for roses be,--
For the moss-rose and the musk-rose,
read more
"For if I wait," said she,
"Till time for roses be,--
For the moss-rose and the musk-rose,
Maiden-blush and royal-dusk rose,--
"What glory then for me
In such a company?--
Roses plenty, roses plenty
And one nightingale for twenty?"
The soul's Rialto hath its merchandise,
I barter for curl upon that mart.
The soul's Rialto hath its merchandise,
I barter for curl upon that mart.
The flower-girl's prayer to buy roses and pinks,
Held out in the smoke, like stars by day.
The flower-girl's prayer to buy roses and pinks,
Held out in the smoke, like stars by day.
A white rosebud for a guerdon.
A white rosebud for a guerdon.
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.).
