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
writing one-day three
You may write twenty lines one day--or even three like Euripides in three days--and a hundred lines in one more day--and yet on the hundred, may have been expended as much good work, as on the twenty and the three.
book writing men
Many a fervid man writes books as cold and flat as graveyard stones.
book love-you writing
OF writing many books there is no end; And I who have written much in prose and verse For others' uses, will write now for mine,- Will write my story for my better self, As when you paint your portrait for a friend, Who keeps it in a drawer and looks at it Long after he has ceased to love you, just To hold together what he was and is.
writing kissing romantic-love
First time he kissed me, he but only kissed The fingers of this hand wherewith I write; And, ever since, it grew more clean and white.
writing seems courses
Like to write? Of course, of course I do. I seem to live while I write - it is life, for me.
book writing ends
Of writing many books there is no end.
angel writing night
I heard an angel speak last night/And he said, "Write!"
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.