Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Elizabeth Barrett Browningwas one of the most prominent English poets of the Victorian era, popular in Britain and the United States during her lifetime...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth6 March 1806
baby tired sleep
Sleep on, Baby, on the floor, Tired of all the playing, Sleep with smile the sweeter for That you dropped away in! On your curls' full roundness stand Golden lights serenely-- One cheek, pushed out by the hand, Folds the dimple inly.
children heart sleep
For me, my heart, that erst did go Most like a tired child at a show, That sees through tears the mummers leap, Would now its wearied vision close, Would childlike on His love repose, Who giveth His Beloved, sleep.
death fall sleep
O Earth, so full of dreary noises! O men, with wailing in your voices! O delved gold, the wader's heap! O strife, O curse, that o'er it fall! God makes a silence through you all, And "giveth His beloved, sleep.
sleep secret remember
There, that is our secret: go to sleep! You will wake, and remember, and understand.
lying sleep looks
Tis aye a solemn thing to me To look upon a babe that sleeps-- Wearing in its spirit-deeps The unrevealed mystery Of its Adam's taint and woe, Which, when they revealed lie, Will not let it slumber so.
sleep soul grace
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.
fall sleep tears
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.
dream dull hurts lean paid pair producing stumble weary women works worth
The works of women are symbolical. We sew, sew, prick our fingers, dull our sight, producing what? A pair of slippers, sir, to put on when you're weary -- or a stool. To stumble 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.
common rose till touch touches warm
Our Euripides, the human, / With his droppings of warm tears, / And his touches of things common / Till they rose to touch the spheres.
among beat books cases creeping felt fossils found giant high hour mouse pulling ribs secret small sun victorious
Books, books, books had found the secret of a garret-room piled high with cases in my father's name; Piled high, packed large, /where, creeping in and out among the giant fossils of my past, like some small nimble mouse between the ribs of a mastodon, I nibbled here and there at this or that box, pulling through the gap, in heats of terror, haste, victorious joy, the first book first. And how I felt it beat under my pillow, in the morning's dark. An hour before the sun would let me read! My books!
book mouse pulling ribs small victorious
Like some small nimble mouse between the ribs / Of a mastodon, I nibbled here and there / At this or that box, pulling through the gap, / In heats of terror, haste, victorious joy, / The first book first.
measure until work
Measure not the work until the day's out and the labor's done.
afloat breaking god golden great paddling ruin spreading
What was he doing, the great god Pan, / Down in the reeds by the river? / Spreading ruin and scattering ban, / Splashing and paddling with hoofs of a goat, / And breaking the golden lilies afloat / With the dragon-fly on the river.
A woman is always younger than a man at equal years.