Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Let no one till his death
Be called unhappy. Measure not the work
Until the day's out read more

Let no one till his death
Be called unhappy. Measure not the work
Until the day's out and the labour done.

Sleep on, Baby, on the floor,
Tired of all the playing,
Sleep with smile the sweeter for
read more

Sleep on, Baby, on the floor,
Tired of all the playing,
Sleep with smile the sweeter for
That you dropped away in!
On your curls' full roundness stand
Golden lights serenely--
One cheek, pushed out by the hand,
Folds the dimple inly.

O brave poets, keep back nothing;
Nor mix falsehood with the whole!
Look up Godward! speak the read more

O brave poets, keep back nothing;
Nor mix falsehood with the whole!
Look up Godward! speak the truth in
Worthy song from earnest soul!
Hold, in high poetic duty,
Truest Truth the fairest Beauty.

For poets (bear the word)
Half-poets even, are still whole democrats.

For poets (bear the word)
Half-poets even, are still whole democrats.

'Twas a yellow rose,
By that south window of the little house,
My cousin Romney gathered with read more

'Twas a yellow rose,
By that south window of the little house,
My cousin Romney gathered with his hand
On all my birthdays, for me. save the last;
And then I shook the tree too rough, too rough,
For roses to stay after.