Sonnet Xxiii
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Is it indeed so ? If I lay here dead, Wouldst thou miss any life in losing mine ? And would the sun for thee more coldly shine Because of grave-damps falling round my head ? I marvelled, my Beloved, when I read Thy thought so in the letter. I am thine-- But . . . so much to thee ? Can I pour thy wine While my hands tremble ? Then my soul, instead Of dreams of death, resumes life's lower range. Then, love me, Love ! look on me--breathe on me ! As brighter ladies do not count it strange, For love, to give up acres and degree, I yield the grave for thy sake, and exchange My near sweet view of Heaven, for earth with thee !
Next 10 Poems
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Sonnet Xxiv
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Sonnet Xxix
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Sonnet Xxv
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Sonnet Xxvi
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Sonnet Xxvii
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Sonnet Xxviii
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Sonnet Xxx
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Sonnet Xxxi
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Sonnet Xxxii
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Sonnet Xxxiii
Previous 10 Poems
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Sonnet Xxii
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Sonnet Xxi
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Sonnet Xx
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Sonnet Xviii
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Sonnet Xvii
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Sonnet Xvi
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Sonnet Xv
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Sonnet Xliv
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Sonnet Xliii
- Elizabeth Barrett Browning : Sonnet Xlii