Poem by Elizabeth Barrett-Browning

Sonnets from the Portuguese. 15. Accuse me not, beseech thee, that I wear

Accuse me not, beseech thee, that I wear
Too calm and sad a face in front of thine;
For we two look two ways, and cannot shine
With the same sunlight on our brow and hair.
On me thou lookest with no doubting care,
As on a bee shut in a crystalline;
Since sorrow hath shut me safe in love's divine,
And to spread wing and fly in the outer air
Were most impossible failure, if I strove
To fail so. But I look on thee—on thee—
Beholding, besides love, the end of love,
Hearing oblivion beyond memory;
As one who sits and gazes from above,
Over the rivers to the bitter sea. 

1. To Flush, My Dog
2. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 30. I see thine image through my tears to-night
3. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 20. Belovëd, my Belovëd, when I think
4. Aurora Leigh. Ninth Book
5. Sonnets from the Portuguese. 12. Indeed this very love which is my boast

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