A Poem on Love. Of Course I Didn’t Write It, Are You Kidding Me?

I had to suppress a huge sigh and blink back tears when I read this just now in the computer lab. I’m such a syrupy, saccharine, sappy sap sometimes. Elizabeth Barrett Browning just makes my heart ache. The lady is brilliant.

Sonnets from the Portuguese: VI

Go from me. Yet I feel that I shall stand
Henceforward in thy shadow. Nevermore
Alone upon the threshold of my door
Of individual life, I shall command
The uses of my soul, nor lift my hand
Serenely in the sunshine as before,
Without the sense of that which I forbore, ..
Thy touch upon the palm. The widest land
Doom takes to part us, leaves thy heart in mine
With pulses that beat double. What I do
And what I dream include thee, as the wine
Must taste of its own grapes. And when I sue
God for myself, He hears that name of thine,
And sees within my eyes, the tears of two.