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Poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning


Sonnets from the Portuguese. 20. Belovëd, my Belovëd, when I think


Belovëd, my Belovëd, when I think
That thou wast in the world a year ago,
What time I sat alone here in the snow
And saw no footprint, heard the silence sink
No moment at thy voice, but, link by link,
Went counting all my chains as if that so
They never could fall off at any blow
Struck by thy possible hand,why, thus I drink
Of lifes great cup of wonder!  Wonderful,
Never to feel thee thrill the day or night
With personal act or speech,nor ever cull
Some prescience of thee with the blossoms white
Thou sawest growing!  Atheists are as dull,
Who cannot guess Gods presence out of sight.



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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