Comfort
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Speak low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet From out the hallelujahs, sweet and low Lest I should fear and fall, and miss Thee so Who art not missed by any that entreat. Speak to mo as to Mary at thy feet ! And if no precious gums my hands bestow, Let my tears drop like amber while I go In reach of thy divinest voice complete In humanest affection -- thus, in sooth, To lose the sense of losing. As a child, Whose song-bird seeks the wood for evermore Is sung to in its stead by mother's mouth Till, sinking on her breast, love-reconciled, He sleeps the faster that he wept before.
Next 10 Poems
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Consolation
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Cry Of The Children, The
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : De Profundis
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Deserted Garden, The
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Discontent
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Exaggeration
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : From The Souls Travelling
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Futurity
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Grief
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : House Of Clouds, The
Previous 10 Poems
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Chorus Of Eden Spirits
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Cheerfulness Taught By Reason
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