| Poems by Women |
Sonnets from the Portuguese ii
Elizabeth Barrett Browning. 1806-1861
UNLIKE are we, unlike, O princely Heart!
Unlike our uses and our destinies.
Our ministering two angels look
surprise
On one another, as they strike athwart
Their wings in passing.
Thou, bethink thee, art
A guest for queens to social
pageantries,
With gages from a hundred brighter eyes
Than tears
even can make mine, to play thy part
Of chief musician. What hast thou to
do
With looking from the lattice-lights at me--
A poor, tired,
wandering singer, singing through
The dark, and leaning up a cypress
tree?
The chrism is on thine head--on mine the dew--
And Death must
dig the level where these agree.
From: Quiller-Couch, Arthur.
The Oxford Book of Verse. (1900)
This poet:
[Author index]
This collection assembled by Jone Johnson Lewis.
Collection © 1999-2002 Jone Johnson Lewis.
Citing poems from these pages:
| Author. "Poem Title." Women's History: Poems by Women. Jone Johnson Lewis, editor. URL: (date of logon) |
