Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How he sleepeth! having drunken
Weary childhood's mandragore,
From his pretty eyes have sunken
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How he sleepeth! having drunken
Weary childhood's mandragore,
From his pretty eyes have sunken
Pleasures to make room for more--
Sleeping near the withered nosegay which he pulled the day
before.

Brazen helm of daffodillies,
With a glitter toward the light.
Purple violets for the mouth,
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Brazen helm of daffodillies,
With a glitter toward the light.
Purple violets for the mouth,
Breathing perfumes west and south;
And a sword of flashing lilies,
Holden ready for the fight.

Deep violets, you liken to
The kindest eyes that look on you,
Without a thought disloyal.

Deep violets, you liken to
The kindest eyes that look on you,
Without a thought disloyal.

And thus, what can we do,
Poor rose and poet too,
Who both antedate our mission
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And thus, what can we do,
Poor rose and poet too,
Who both antedate our mission
In an unprepared season?

Get leave to work
In this world,--'tis the best you get at all.

Get leave to work
In this world,--'tis the best you get at all.