So XXVI
I lived with visions for my pany
Instead of men and women, years ago,
And found them gees, nor thought to know
A sweefer music than they played to me.
But soorailing purple was not free
Of this worlds dust, their lutes did silent grow,
And I myself grew faint and blind below
Their vanishing eyes. Then THOU didst e--to be,
Beloved, what they seemed. Their shining fronts,
Their songs, their splendors (better, yet the same,
As river-water hallowed into fonts),
Met in thee, and from out thee overcame
My soul with satisfa of all wants:
Because Gods gifts put ma dreams to shame.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
So XXVI: I Lived With Visions
I lived with visions for my pany
Instead of men and women, years ago,
And found them gees, nor thought to know
A sweeter music than they played to me.
But soorailing purple was not free
Of this worlds dust, their lutes did silent grow,
And I myself grew faint and blind below
Their vanishing eyes. Then thou didst e--to be,
Belovèd, what they seemed. Their shining fronts,
Their songs, their splendors (better, yet the same,
As river water hallowed into fonts),
Met in thee, and from out thee overcame
My soul with satisfa of all wants:
Because Gods gifts put ma dreams to shame.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
So XXVII
My own Beloved, who hast lifted me
From this drear flat of earth where I was thrown,
And, iwixt the languid ris, blown
A life-breath, till the forehead hopefully
Shines out again, as all the angels see,
Before thy saving kiss ! My own, my own,
Who camest to me when the world was gone,
And I who looked for only God, found thee !
I find thee; I am safe, and strong, and glad.
As one who stands in dewless asphodel
Looks backward oedious time he had
In the upper life,--so I, with bosom-swell,
Make witness, here, between the good and bad,
That Love, as strong as Death, retrieves as well.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
So XXVII: My Dear Belovèd
My dear Belovèd, who hast lifted me
From this drear flat of earth where I was thrown,
And, iwixt the languid ris, blown
A life-breath, till the forehead hopefully
Shines out again, as all the angels see,
Before thy saving kiss! My own, my own,
Who camest to me when the world was gone,
And I who looked for only God, found thee!
I find thee; I am safe, and strong, and glad.
As one who stands in dewless asphodel
Looks backward oedious time he had
In the upper life,--so I, with bosom-swell,
Make witness, here, between the good and bad,
That Love, as strong as Death, retrieves as well.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning
So XXVIII
My letters ! all dead paper, mute and white !
Ahey seem alive and quivering
Against my tremulous hands which loose the string
Ahem drop down on my ko-night.
This said,--he wished to have me in his sight
Once, as a friend: this fixed a day in spring
To e and touch my hand . . . a simple thing,
Yet I wept for it !--this, . . . the papers light . . .
Said, Dear, I love thee; and I sank and quailed
As if Gods future thundered on my past.
This said, I am thine--and so its ink has paled
With Iying at my he