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Poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning


Sonnets from the Portuguese. 40. Oh, yes! they love through all this world of ours!


Oh, yes! they love through all this world of ours!
I will not gainsay love, called love forsooth:
I have heard love talked in my early youth,
And since, not so long back but that the flowers
Then gathered, smell still.  Mussulmans and Giaours
Throw kerchiefs at a smile, and have no ruth
For any weeping.  Polyphemes white tooth
Slips on the nut if, after frequent showers,
The shell is over-smooth,and not so much
Will turn the thing called love, aside to hate
Or else to oblivion.  But thou art not such
A lover, my Belovëd! thou canst wait
Through sorrow and sickness, to bring souls to touch,
And think it soon when others cry Too late.



Elizabeth Barrett Browning


Elizabeth Barrett Browning's other poems:
  1. The Sweetness of England
  2. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 22. When our two souls stand up erect and strong
  3. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 30. I see thine image through my tears to-night
  4. Aurora Leigh. Ninth Book
  5. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 18. I never gave a lock of hair away


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