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Elizabeth Barrett Browning Quotes

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Elizabeth Barrett Browning ( 10 of 96 )

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  24  /  23  

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?

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  27  /  35  

That headlong ivy! not a leaf will grow
But thinking of a wreath, . . .
I read more

That headlong ivy! not a leaf will grow
But thinking of a wreath, . . .
I like such ivy; bold to leap a height
'Twas strong to climb! as good to grow on graves
As twist about a thyrsus; pretty too
(And that's not ill) when twisted round a comb.

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  17  /  24  

And friends, dear friends,--when it shall be
That this low breath is gone from me,
And gone read more

And friends, dear friends,--when it shall be
That this low breath is gone from me,
And gone 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."

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  11  /  8  

The place is all awave with trees,
Limes, myrtles, purple-beaded,
Acacias having drunk the lees
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The place is all awave with trees,
Limes, myrtles, purple-beaded,
Acacias having drunk the lees
Of the night-dew, fain headed,
And wan, grey olive-woods, which seem
The fittest foliage for a dream.

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  12  /  22  

Books, books, books!
I had found the secret of a garret room
Piled high with cases in read more

Books, books, books!
I had found the secret of a garret room
Piled high with cases in my father's name;
Piled high, packed large,--where, creeping in and out
Among the giant fossils of my past,
Like some small nimble mouse between the ribs
Of a mastodon, I nibbled here and there
At this or that box, pulling through the gap,
In heats of terror, haste, victorious joy,
The first book first. And how I felt it beat
Under my pillow, in the morning's dark,
An hour before the sun would let me read!
My books!
At last, because the time was ripe,
I chanced upon the poets.

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  4  /  20  

Yet half the beast is the great god Pan,
To laugh, as he sits by the river,
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Yet half the beast is the great god Pan,
To laugh, as he sits by the river,
Making a poet out of a man.
The true gods sigh for the cost and the pain--
For the reed that grows never more again
As a reed with the reeds of the river.

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  26  /  42  

Pray, pray, thou who also weepest,--
And the drops will slacken so;
Weep, weep--and the watch thou read more

Pray, pray, thou who also weepest,--
And the drops will slacken so;
Weep, weep--and the watch thou keepest,
With a quicker count will go.
Think,--the shadow on the dial
For the nature most undone,
Marks the passing of the trial,
Proves the presence of the sun.

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  21  /  22  

Yet here's eglantine,
Here's ivy!--take them as I used to do
Thy flowers, and keep them where read more

Yet here's eglantine,
Here's ivy!--take them as I used to do
Thy flowers, and keep them where they shall not pine.
Instruct thine eyes to keep their colours true,
And tell thy soul their roots are left in mine.

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  19  /  17  

And that dismal cry rose slowly
And sank slowly through the air,
Full of spirit's melancholy
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And that dismal cry rose slowly
And sank slowly through the air,
Full of spirit's melancholy
And eternity's despair!
And they heart the words it said--
Pan is dead! great Pan is dead!
Pan, Pan is dead!

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  2  /  8  

Don't stay in bed, unless you can make money in bed.

Don't stay in bed, unless you can make money in bed.

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