Elizabeth Barrett Browning Quotes

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.

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.

Thank God, bless God, all ye who suffer not
More grief than ye can weep for. That is well--
read more

Thank God, bless God, all ye who suffer not
More grief than ye can weep for. That is well--
That is light grieving!

At painful times, when composition is impossible and reading is not enough, grammars and dictionaries are excellent for distraction.

At painful times, when composition is impossible and reading is not enough, grammars and dictionaries are excellent for distraction.

This guelder rose, at far too slight a beck
Of the wind, will toss about her flower-apples.

This guelder rose, at far too slight a beck
Of the wind, will toss about her flower-apples.

Very whitely still
The lilies of our lives may reassure
Their blossoms from their roots, accessible
read more

Very whitely still
The lilies of our lives may reassure
Their blossoms from their roots, accessible
Alone to heavenly dews that drop not fewer;
Growing straight out of man's reach, on the hill.
God only, who made us rich, can make us poor.

'Twas a yellow rose,
By that south window of the little house,
My cousin Romney gathered with read more

'Twas a yellow rose,
By that south window of the little house,
My cousin Romney gathered with his hand
On all my birthdays, for me. save the last;
And then I shook the tree too rough, too rough,
For roses to stay after.

"There is no God," the foolish saith, But none, "There is no sorrow." And nature oft the cry of read more

"There is no God," the foolish saith, But none, "There is no sorrow." And nature oft the cry of faith In bitter need will borrow: Eyes which the preacher could not school, By wayside graves are raised; And lips say, "God be pitiful," Who ne'er said, "God be praised.".

And friends, dear friends,--when it shall be
That this low breath is gone from me,
And gone read more

And friends, dear friends,--when it shall be
That this low breath is gone from me,
And gone my bier ye come to weep,
Let One, most loving of you all,
Say, "Not a tear must o'er her fall;
He giveth His beloved sleep."

Of all the thoughts of God that are
Borne inward unto souls afar,
Along the Psalmist's music read more

Of all the thoughts of God that are
Borne inward unto souls afar,
Along the Psalmist's music deep,
Now tell me if that any is.
For gift or grace, surpassing this--
"He giveth His beloved sleep."