More from Elizabeth Barrett Browning

  1. And Marlowe, Webster, Fletcher, Ben, Whose fire-hearts sowed our furrows when The world was worthy of such men.
  2. 'Guess now who holds thee?'-'Death,' I said. But there The silver answer rang-'Not Death, but Love.'
  3. And Chaucer, with his infantine Familiar clasp of things divine.
  4. Thou hast thy calling to some palace-floor, Most gracious singer of high poems! where The dancers will break footing, from the care Of watc…
  5. There Shakespeare, on whose forehead climb The crowns o' the world; oh, eyes sublime With tears and laughter for all time!
  6. Hush, call no echo up in further proof Of desolation! there's a voice within That weeps . . . as thou must sing . . . alone, aloof.
  7. The cypress stood up like a church That night we felt our love would hold, And saintly moonlight seemed to search And wash the whole world …
  8. Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand Henceforward in thy shadow.

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