Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Poetical Works, Выпуск 21,Том 3

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Стр. 230 - Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light. I love thee freely, as men strive for Right ; I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise. I love thee with the passion put to use In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith. I love thee with a love I seemed to lose With my lost saints...
Стр. 209 - WHEN our two souls stand up erect and strong, Face to face, silent, drawing nigh and nigher, Until the lengthening wings break into fire At either curved point, — what bitter wrong Can the earth do to us, that we should not long Be here contented ? Think ! In mounting higher, The angels would press on us and aspire To drop some golden orb of perfect song Into our deep, dear silence.
Стр. 113 - And friends, dear friends, when it shall be That this low breath is gone from me, And round my bier ye come to weep, Let One, most loving of you all, Say, ' Not a tear must o'er her fall ! He giveth His beloved, sleep.
Стр. 213 - I lived with visions for my company Instead of men and women, years ago, And found them gentle mates, nor thought to know A sweeter music than they played to me. But soon their trailing purple was not free Of this world's dust, their lutes did silent grow, And I myself grew faint and blind below Their vanishing eyes. Then THOU didst come — to be, Beloved, what they seemed. Their shining fronts, Their songs, their...
Стр. 225 - FIRST time he kissed me, he but only kissed The fingers of this hand wherewith I write ; And ever since, it grew more clean and white, Slow to world-greetings, quick with its ' Oh, list,' When the angels speak. A ring of amethyst I could not wear here, plainer to my sight, Than that first kiss. The second passed in height The first, and sought the forehead, and half missed, Half falling on the hair. O beyond meed ! That was the chrism of love, which love's own crown, "With sanctifying sweetness,...
Стр. 120 - It went up from the Holy's lips amid his lost creation, That, of the lost, no son should use those words of desolation...
Стр. 194 - The face of all the world is changed, I think, Since first I heard the footsteps of thy soul Move still, oh, still, beside me, as they stole Betwixt me and the dreadful outer brink Of obvious death, where I, who thought to sink, Was caught up into love, and taught the whole Of life in a new rhythm.
Стр. 207 - I sat alone here in the snow And saw no footprint, heard the silence sink No moment at thy voice, but, link by link, Went counting all my chains as if that so They never could fall off at any blow Struck by thy possible hand, — why, thus I drink Of life's great cup of wonder! Wonderful, Never to feel thee thrill the day or night With personal act or speech, - nor ever cull Some prescience of thee with the blossoms white Thou sawest growing! Atheists are as dull, Who cannot guess God's presence...
Стр. 111 - OF all the thoughts of God that are Borne inward unto souls afar, Along the Psalmist's music deep, Now tell me if that any is, For gift or grace, surpassing this — • He giveth His beloved, sleep...

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