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Poem by Elizabeth Barrett-Browning


Sonnets from the portuguese. 31. Thou comest! all is said without a word


Thou comest! all is said without a word.
I sit beneath thy looks, as children do
In the noon-sun, with souls that tremble through
Their happy eyelids from an unaverred
Yet prodigal inward joy.  Behold, I erred
In that last doubt! and yet I cannot rue
The sin most, but the occasionthat we two
Should for a moment stand unministered
By a mutual presence.  Ah, keep near and close,
Thou dove-like help! and when my fears would rise,
With thy broad heart serenely interpose:
Brood down with thy divine sufficiencies
These thoughts which tremble when bereft of those,
Like callow birds left desert to the skies.



Elizabeth Barrett-Browning


Elizabeth Barrett-Browning's other poems:
  1. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 11. And therefore if to love can be desert
  2. Aurora Leigh. Fifth Book
  3. A Year's Spinning
  4. To Flush, My Dog
  5. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 41. I thank all who have loved me in their hearts


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